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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 24 hours

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Is It All Over? - LN

Summary: Lando's girlfriend seems to disappear from any appearances with him and fans are growing concerned it might all be over. Which doesn't matter to Lando, till he feels like she's missed

Mildly shy!reader (bc I miss writing the shy series sometimes - this isn't the shy series, I'm just saying I liked writing it) also for the girls who are emotionally attached to a childhood comfort blanket (the one in this fic isn't just a couple strings of fabric tho)

No part 2 requests please

Being back in Monaco, Lando has been keeping himself busy going out with Max and P and having his sister and her boyfriend there to visit.

Y/n on the other hand, she's been...absent. In fact even he has to admit he doesn't exactly remember when he last saw her, he's been texting her all day between his own plans. But where the hell she's been and what she's been doing he wishes he could say.

"Alright, home time." Max declares actually being the dad of the group and responsible enough to know when to call it a night. But even on their way out he makes a comment which does sort of make Lando have to hide a wince. "Did y/n not come to join us? P thought y/n had mentioned joining us for dinner."

"Uhh...she didn't say anything to me." Lando shrugs then smiling as they all head back.

Lando stayed away from the alcohol so he could actually drive back and Max seemed to follow suit to drive the other car.

"Things are good between you and y/n, aren't they?" Max questions earning a frown. "I mean just...there's a lot of stuff online about her seeming to never be around-and I know not to listen. But it's not like her to miss out on something like this."

"Honestly mate...I don't even know." Lando admits hating that he's even saying it. Who wants to admit they don't even know if their relationship is on the rocks? Even worse, who wants to admit fans that know nothing about the relationship are right about it being on the rocks?

They all drive back, parking their cars in the garage which is seemingly packed with Lando's car collection.

The couples seem to get themselves to the spare guest rooms and start to wind down leaving Lando to search for his girlfriend. Finding her curled up in bed wrapped the blanket that you'd be lucky to pry from her hands if you catch her in the wrong mood.

"Hey, baby." Lando greets casually leaning over the bed to give her a kiss which she returns promptly.

"Hey."

"Did you not feel up to joining us?" Lando asks trying not to sound annoyed or upset. "Max was asking after you."

Y/n remains quiet while Lando busies himself in getting dressed and changing for bed.

"Baby?"

"I just felt...like staying in." Y/n murmurs then sighing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let anyone down. It's just-I felt like there was so many people and when we were getting ready this morning and everyone was coming in and talking to me about how many people would be there and how many people we'd be meeting up with, I kind of got freaked out."

Cue Lando grimacing inwardly and being hit with a reason to dislike himself.

He's been busy. Very busy and with him not wanting y/n to travel with him too much because of her lack of ability to really adapt well at all to the time zone changes.

But none of that excuses that fact that he's just overlooked and ignored one of the key characteristics that makes y/n the person she is.

She's shy.

Big groups and a lots of people might feel like a nice or normal situation for most people but for y/n it's just a nightmare. Her idea of perfect is just spending the night with Lando and it's not because she doesn't like other people or because she's a bitch. She's just shy and that situation pushes her further into being quiet and withdrawn the whole time.

"Shit." Lando mutters as he's finally dressed then climbing onto the bed and pulling y/n into a hug and kissing all around her face which does earn a small smile and laugh from his girlfriend. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Because I was mad...but it's not fair that I was mad." Lando sighs making her frown. "You've never liked nights out and you don't like big groups. I don't even know why I expected you to come."

"Lando...it's normal for a girlfriend to go out with you and your friends." Y/n mumbles then smiling sadly. "I'm sorry though."

"No. You don't need to be sorry...it's my fault. Max asked and with all the comments and theories from fans recently because you haven't been at races...It's just got in my head." Lando groans then feeling the young woman move to hug him tightly. "I love you."

"Lando...stop beating yourself up...please." Y/n mumbles making him smile lightly at her. "You're cute but you really don't need to be so concerned...even if your fans are getting in your head."

Lando hums with a grunt before lying back and pulling her with him to lie down.

"How did you spend your night then?" Lando asks making her smile.

"I made spaghetti carbonara from scratch. I painted my toe nails." Y/n smiles showing her toes which are painted a glossy white.

"Very pretty." Lando smiles since y/n had been trying to improve her skill on doing her own nails. Usually with little success on her hands but her toes always go well. "How was the carbonara?"

"So so good. I loved it." Y/n nods then rolling to lie on her tummy.

"Good. I'm glad you had a good night."

"Since we are kind of having a serious talk though." Y/n mumbles shifting ever so slightly closer. "I do sort of want to come to the next race-I know I'll be a mopey, grumpy, tired bitch. But I want to be there for you and I'm sick of fans dog-piling on me in comments and tags about why I'm not there and if we've broken up."

"I want you at every race baby. You don't need permission. You just come with me whenever you want, ok?" Lando smiles then pulling her towards her for a kiss. "I just don't want you to feel forced into being there with me if you don't feel up to it. But I'll always want you there. No matter what."

"Ok, well I want to be there for the next race. Really badly." Y/n murmurs earning a grin.

"Good and you can be as antisocial as you want. No enforced socialising."

Lando was pretty excited to slap those rumours and assumptions about his relationship away and while he promised no socialising if she didn't feel up to it.

That didn't mean he wouldn't be showing her off, making it clear with every kiss, hug and possibly cheeky gesture whenever possible throughout the weekend.

"Lando! You have got to behave. There are cameras." Y/n gasps in a quiet voice when Lando comes up to her managing to steal a kiss and shamelessly hold her ass with both hands to pull her forward against himself.

"I love you." Lando shrugs making it obvious he's got no intention of easing up on the PDA even if she looks like she wants to jab him in the throat for the constant attention being drawn to her because of his ravishing over her. "I'm just glad we've shut fans up. I was getting sick of them asking if I'd really fumbled someone as good as you."

"They should give you more credit. You're super smart." Y/n smiles while reaching up to shift a stray curl. "Even if it's me hitting about my weight."

"Don't even." Lando tsks then lifting her and doing what he always does when he wants to carry her around which is refuse to place her down till she just complies so it's no surprise when she lifts her legs and locks them up around his waist. "You're sticking with me for a bit."

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pucksandpower · 17 hours

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Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

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remi-thirsts · 3 days

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❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ❞

pairing: r. suna x fem!reader summary: Headcanons abt ur man who loves to record his fav girl ! content: very suggestive, established relationship, (p -> v), oral (f + m receiving), fingering, pet names (baby), cursing, filming (consensual for both parties), teasing (when is suna not teasing?), lmk if I missed anything. (kind of a soft smut release since i'm not confident)

✧ bf!suna who whips out his phone anytime you wear anything that's tight around your curves.

"Okay Rin, I'm coming out tell me what you think of this dress." He lets out an uninterested hum, because you've been in the store for at least two hours. You need a new dress for your cousin's birthday party.

When you walk out and give him a little twirl he immediately exits whatever game he was playing to pass the time and opens the camera app.

"Holy shit, look at that ass baby. Mmm and those pretty tits."

"Can you focus for like one second?

✧ bf!suna who sends you horny videos throughout the day, because he misses you.

dookie butt 😝💖 [1 video attachment] look what u do to me

you -boyyyy i'm at work rn -but holy fuck... you moan so loud that i had to turn my volume down and i think i got looks from people

dookie butt 😝💖 so.... no titties ?

you ding ding ding ! you win blue balls

dookie butt 😝💖 at least send me some ass 😒

✧ bf!suna has a whole ALBUM on his phone of videos of you two fucking.

✧ bf!suna loves watching that one video where it's so shaky and you can barely tell what's going on, but he knows. He was eating you out so good, he had you back arching off of the bed, and your toes curling. You couldn't even hold the phone properly like he asked you too. Being the meanie he is he continued to harshly suck on your clit and hit your g-spot with his, long, experienced, rough fingers even after you came. You ended up squirting all over his face..

✧ bf!suna LOVES to record his dick bulging in your belly. That's how he knows he's hitting it good.

✧ bf!suna comes up with all these ridiculous scenarios/roleplays that you always seem to agree to do with him. He records ALL of them.

✧ bf!suna saves every single nude you send him, because despite what you say he thinks you're beautiful all day everyday.

✧ bf!suna sends you Twitter links asking if you wanna recreate them. Anytime he watches them he can only think about you and himself.

✧ bf!suna has no shame and will watch your homemade videos even with his friends around.

"Damn, Rin whatever yer watching must be really interestin'!" Atsumu spits sarcasm at the EJP middle blocker.

"Way more interesting than you by a long shot." Suna calmly replies which pisses his friend off even more. The blond snatches Suna's phone. Only to hand it back seconds later with a flushed face, "Gosh yer a pervert, Sunarin, a pervert."

✧ bf!suna is like a photographer when you get a new lingerie set. He'll ask you to make different poses and stand at different angles so he can get "the best possible picture"

✧ bf!suna sends you audios of him moaning because he knows you love it.

dookie butt 😝💖 [1 audio attachment] :3

you RIN. I'M MELTING WTF U SOUND SO HOT

dookie butt 😝💖 u should send something back to show ur appreciation

you 🫡

✧ bf!suna never posts or shares your videos unless you ask him too, and the ones he does share with the internet are the ones where no one can see your faces.

✧ bf!suna all in all loves you and your beauty. Every single video he's recorded is proof of that. When you watch them, you notice the little things, like how he'll prop up a pillow for you, or how he'll quietly ask if it's okay for him to keep going and whatnot. Many would think that he's just horny all the time and doesn't care about you, but he does care. Way more than haters will realize.

©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

#𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 #✩ hq post #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #suna x reader #suna smut #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou #rintaro suna #suna rintaro smut #rintaro suna x reader #suna #haikyuu suna

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anashins · 2 days

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So this just happened to me but I found out my bf doesn’t have my contacts saved with any kind of emoji or cute nickname. Maybe a suggestion for a Drabble? Feel like a child writing this but idk how this has me so bummed and sad

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: fluff, romance

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: As you find out that Jaehyun doesn't have your contact saved on his phone under a cute nick name, you start comparing your relationship to others. After all, that must mean you're not special to him - right?

A/N: I hope everything went well for you, dear! My bf always says, “I don’t know, you have to tell me!” - so just tell him! Because men are simple but their partners' feelings matter to them, even if they seem childish to you 💞

“Under which name did your boyfriend save you on his phone? You know that?”

You looked at your best friend who tilted her head as though in deep thoughts. For a moment, you hoped she wouldn’t know, wouldn’t care, and that you were overdramatic after all like you had feared all along, but almost instantly, she replied,

“When we started dating, he had me saved as ‘my girl’ without any kind of emoji. When we officially decided to get together, he saved my contact as ‘baby’ with a pink heart, and it remained like this until now.”

Your best friend wasn’t the first one who you had asked and whose answer was almost identical to your other taken friends you had questioned about this topic: Their boyfriends all had them saved on their phones with either a cute nickname, some meaningful emoji or both.

Your own boyfriend had you saved on his phone under your government name.

You usually never looked at his screen as there were always so many things going on with different people from his group, from his management and from people in the industry in general, so it was always buzzing anyway.

But when a week ago you had been lying next to him, sending him pictures from the activity you had done together shortly before, your name popped up in his chat history.

Your full name.

You had been bummed, and he had happily continued on as if he hadn’t minded you seeing this, as if this was the most normal thing in the world and didn’t make you feel less special among all his other contacts - and there were a lot for an idol.

After all, even when you didn’t have as many connections as him, you had your boyfriend saved as,

‘Yuno-ya’ with a pink heart.

It wasn’t the most romantic nickname as you weren’t calling each other pet names at all, but still cute and emphasized his contact to filter his name out of all other people.

Now, hearing all the other boyfriends having your female friends saved as something special, it made you feel even sadder as if the entire thing hadn’t been bothering you for a week already.

“Under which name has your boyfriend your contact saved on his phone?” your best friend questioned back.

You sighed out loud.

“I don’t like it when you make that face,” Jaehyun immediately said to you instead of a greeting when you came over to his house later that day. “And you have randomly started making it the last time we met. I’ve been worrying all week, but on the phone you always say everything is fine when it’s clearly not. Tell me now, did I do something wrong?”

You bit into your bottom lip. You felt that now was the chance, now or never before it would eat you up from the inside and you would never be able to let go of it. “Under which name do you have me saved on your phone?”

Jaehyun widened his eyes, completely blindsided by this unexpected silly question, apparently. “Pardon?”

“My contact,” you described it better for him. “Under which name can you find me in your contacts?”

He confusedly proceeded to speak out your full government name.

“Exactly!” you called him out.

“I don’t understand.”

“You have me saved in your contacts under my full name!”

“Well… isn’t that your full name? Under what name should I save you then? Should I make one up or…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on! What’s the problem here?”

You folded your arms in front of your chest. The longer you went on to explain this situation to a very oblivious Jaehyun, the sillier you started to feel. Were you exaggerating? But none of your friends had said so and claimed your feelings were valid.

Suddenly, your voice was very low when you poured out your feelings to him as there was no turning back anymore. “My friend’s boyfriends have them all saved on their phones under some cute nickname. Or with a cute emoji at least. I also have you saved as Yuno-ya with a heart. It makes the other person feel special and makes the contact stand out from everyone else. It gives you a little surge of excitement whenever that person’s name pops up. As you have me saved with my full government name… it makes me think if you see me as everyone else and I’m not that special to you.”

Your breakout followed a few moments of silence in which you kept your gaze locked to the ground as you were now kind of too embarrassed to face Jaehyun. Hearing these words… you felt so childish.

The pat you felt on the top of your head only shortly later convinced you of the opposite though. When you lifted your head, Jaehyun wasn’t laughing and he didn’t look like he wanted to make fun of you or didn’t understand your feelings at all.

“I’m sorry,” he said with genuine concern. “I… didn’t know. I have everyone saved on my phone with their full government name as there are just so many people that it really gives me a hard time to separate them all or even remember who they are. Even the members aren’t an exception, only my parents. It was just a habit I followed when we exchanged contacts and I was never bothered enough to change it. If I had known it was this important to you, I would have done it right away.”

Was it really this simple? Some men like your boyfriend just didn’t know, were totally unaware of such things and you simply needed to tell them to change whatever bothered you, no matter how silly and childish it might sound?

He was a perfect partner for you and you couldn’t believe you let such a futile thing question his feelings for an entire week.

Jaehyun smiled at you and pulled out his phone. “Don’t ever think again that you’re not special to me and I never feel excitement rushing through me whenever your name pops up on my phone. Your chat is pinned at the very top and your number saved as favorites. Among everyone I regularly keep in contact with, even if I don’t answer for hours, I always answer you first. I always recognize your picture, no matter how many times you change it. Upon first glance, I always recognize it’s you. My beautiful girl.”

He gave you a kiss on the cheek and then proceeded to type something into his phone with a wide grin, obviously changing your name name.

“What did you save my contact under now?” you asked and wanted to catch a glimpse, but Jaehyun quickly pulled his phone away from you.

“Text me now and you’ll see.”

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x you #nct x reader #nct 127 x you #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #requests

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d-dixonimagines · 1 day

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PROMPT: "Thought you'd be taller.."

I feel like I want to do this one again with a different approach, but I don't know. I envisioned it being something light-hearted and fun, so please excuse my attempt at being funny...! @darylsdelts A/N: It's not edited so there's probably typos

There was a weird buzz of energy going around the camp that you couldn't quite place. The way people whispered to one another excitedly like gossiping teenagers. Eventually you got wind that Daryl Dixon was supposed to be arriving. It was overheard on the radio when your group leader was communicating with Aaron, arranging some kind of supply drop. They had been talking for months and were finally closing on a deal to join forces and create connections.

Sure, you had heard Daryl's name before, but it was strange to see people act like it was some celebrity coming through their town, a behavior you thought was long dead when everything fell. He had been the talk for days, apparently. People telling stories about all the things they've heard he's done, even some you were sure couldn't possibly be true, like blowing up a group with a bazooka? It sounded ridiculous.

He had managed to gain a sort of reputation. He was the lone wolf you didn't mess with. People have said that he mostly kept to himself, some describing him as a grumpy old bear, and good luck if you ever got on his bad side.

You've heard he was mean and intimidating and had a permanent glare, but others say he is kind and had a softness to him. That he had a type of charm that was hard to explain. But it was all the same as rumors go; you didn't know what you were supposed to believe.

He had come to the camp a few times, but somehow you've never seen or met him yourself. It was like he was a myth. A story someone made up, and depending on which version you heard, he was either a scary boogeyman or some kind of hero.

None of that mattered, though. You were determined to find out for yourself who this Daryl guy really was, and if he was worth all of the commotion he seemed to cause.

The sun was just about to set when he and Aaron finally arrived. They were greeted with welcoming smiles and were invited to join you all for dinner. You were appreciative of the large cart of food and supplies they brought, but so far you weren't seeing anything too spectacular. He was quiet, mostly. Handing over crates and stuff, no particular look about him. He didn't look scary, there was no scowl-y expression. So many not a grumpy bear?

As the evening went on and everyone was settled, scattered about around the fire, you sat silently - continuing to watch him. When it was mostly just the two of you remaining, you decided that the silent stalking was getting you nowhere, so you took things to the next level; you approached him..

"Would you like some more?" You offered, extending the kettle of food you had in your hand. He looked up at you for a second before shaking his head, "Nah, I'm good.. Thanks." His voice was gruff, but there was a softness to it, it didn't make sense!

"I'll have some more." Your attention was brought to Larson, a guy from your group, who was sitting close by with his plate stretched out, a friendly smile on his face. Without saying a word, you took a step towards him and practically tossed the kettle in his lap, taking a seat next to Daryl, your back towards Larson.

There was a silence again, aside from the confused mumblings from Larson as he dished himself more food. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were eyeing Daryl, trying to glance at the fire every now and then, but you were failing quite miserably.

"Can I help ya with somethin'?" Daryl finally confronted you. When you didn't respond he continued. "You've been starin' me down since I got here and it's startin' to weird me out..."

You straightened up a bit and put your hands up briefly, an attempt to express you didn't mean anything by it. "I'm sorry. I'm just... trying to figure you out." "Whats'ta figure out, exactly?" he remained calm, but you could tell he had a guard up. Which was understandable.

You have a quick shrug as you tried to gather your thoughts. "The way people talk about you, you're at all what I expected." He gave a sight grunt, like where this was going all clicked. "Should I even ask what you were expectin'?" "Thought you'd be taller.." Your response surprised him a bit, causing him to let out a chuckle. Your shoulders relaxed at his reaction. He definitely wasn't a boogeyman type.

"There were a lotta things you could'a said, but I wasn't expectin' that one," he shook his head a bit and set his dish down by his feet. You could understand where he thought you were going, so many mixed reactions to him, but you were feeling more inclined to believe the positive ones, based on your current encounter with him.

"There was a lot of buzz around here when people learned you were visiting. They talk about you like you're some kind of celebrity. Which, I guess in some sense, you kind of are. With all the stuff you've done, you've made quite a name for yourself."

"Pshh.." he scoffed, "I don't buy into all that. People's opinions don't mean shit." "Even if it's good? People look up to you, from what I gather." He shook his head again. "It's all bullshit. They don't know me or the shit I've done." "We've all done things. Larson here?" you pointed your finger over your shoulder, Daryl's eyes following the direction, "the worst thing he's probably done is kill a rabbit, and that's saying something when it comes to him, and while he's probably not the best example, we all still know he's a good person."

Larson looked up from his plate, his gaze going back and forth between you and Daryl. "It was an accident..." Larson defended himself, a silent look of panic etched on his face. "The rabbit, I didn't see it, it was in the -" "You don't have to explain, Larson, it's OK. No one blames you." You cut him off before looking back at Daryl. "...Why would they blame me..?" "It was a whole thing.. but that's not the point. I'm just saying, the stuff you do makes a difference to people. The good stuff, I mean."

Daryl looked confused for a second, trying to figure out Larson's deal, but brought his attention back to you. "I dunno about any of that. I ain't tryin' to be anythin', I'm just doin' what anybody else would." You nodded, planning on keeping things at that, but there was one thing you couldn't get out of your head and needed answers on.

"I just have one question," you opened. He seemed almost reluctant to agree, but he did with a nod. "Is it true you shot a bazooka at some group? Some people say there was a group of like fifty highwaymen and you just blew them all up." He looked at you for a second like you were insane and let out a sigh. "There weren't fifty of 'em, there was only about eight.." "But you blasted them with a bazooka?" "Yeah?" he responded like he didn't understand what the big deal was. "They were a bunch'a assholes, they had it comin'."

"No, I completely get it," you let out a small laugh. "It's just a crazy thing to think about, you know? A bazooka! Where the hell would you even get one of those?" "Military truck," both Daryl and Larson answered at the same time, causing you both to look at him. "Sorry, I keep forgetting you're there." You almost felt bad. "Anyway, I should get going. It was cool to meet you," you turned back to Daryl and stood up, talking some of the empty dishes. Daryl gave a nod as you walked off.

"... The rabbit incident really was an accident," Larson chimed in after a moment of silence; he was leaning towards Daryl like he was trying to keep it between the two of them. "It was in the -" "Let it go, Larson!" Two other people in the group shouted at the same time. Larson slammed his plate on his lap in frustration as he was interrupted once more and he straightened up. Daryl sat there awkwardly in silence for a moment before getting up himself. He walked passed Larson and gave a quick sympathetic pat on his shoulder. "It's alright, buddy. I believe ya.." Daryl let out an amused scoff as he walked away to find Aaron.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #d-dixonimagines #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #norman reedus

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cuubism · 3 days

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Physical Therapy, Part 8

A few days later, Hob goes to Dream’s old flat. He wanted to go immediately, but he needed time to calm himself. If he went to confront Dream’s ex immediately, he’d be too likely to do something inadvisable out of anger.

Truthfully, he’s still so angry.

He can control himself, though. So he knocks on the door, instead of taking it off its hinges.

Dream’s ex-boyfriend opens the door with an annoyed look on his face. But jumps back, startled, at the sight of Hob. He recognizes Hob, then. Good.

“I’m here for Dream’s things,” he says. No need to prolong this with pleasantries.

“His things?” says the ex, with disdain, like Dream’s possessions mean nothing to him. “Why? He’ll come back anyway. Eventually.”

“No, he won’t.”

Ex-boyfriend leans against the door frame, smirking. Maybe Hob should have just punched him. “You going to stop him?”

Hob takes a deep, long breath. No. He actually wouldn’t try to stop him. He’s not going to force Dream to do anything. He’d try to convince him otherwise, though. And if he can be a good enough boyfriend, then maybe Dream will never feel the need to go back to some horrible place, looking for love.

“I don’t try to make people stay in my house,” he snaps. “His things. Now. You think I won’t punch you again?”

So much for being calm.

For the first time, that smirking look slips. “It’s all worthless anyway,” he says.

Hob grits his teeth. The stupidest thing is, even for someone who doesn’t care about Dream himself, Dream’s art is objectively not worthless. Hob had looked it up once. Dream’s paintings sell for thousands of pounds. Sometimes tens of thousands. It’s not just Dream’s passion that he’s so jealous and disparaging about, but his livelihood, his basic ability to support himself.

“Are you going to let me take it?” he says. “Or are we going to have a problem?”

Ex-boyfriend looks annoyed—and uncomfortable?—but finally just gestures Hob in. “Fine. Whatever.”

Inside, the flat is… kind of cold. It’s not homey. He can’t imagine Dream living here; he can barely imagine Dream living in his own flat, which is likewise utterly empty of decoration. But there are spots on the wall, here, that are empty in a more conspicuous way. Like Dream’s art might once have hung there.

Hob doesn’t know the entirety of what he’s looking for, but he thinks he’ll be able to identify most of Dream’s things by sight. And indeed—with Dream’s ex trailing him like an irritable ghost—he finds some of what must be Dream’s clothes in the closet, and Dream’s sketchbooks and books and paperwork all stacked in boxes. Like they’d been on their way out.

So much for “he’s definitely coming back.”

Dream’s ex doesn’t stop him as he packs stuff up and gathers it by the door. But as Hob looks at what he’s managed to collect, there’s obviously something missing. Pieces that were still drying and pieces that were too large to carry, Dream had said, when speaking of what he'd left behind.

“Where’s the rest of his art?”

Now ex-boyfriend does look uncomfortable. A sinking feeling settles in Hob’s stomach. “Why would I keep that shit, anyway? I told you, it’s worthless."

“It’s not worthless,” Hob snaps, but this time his voice breaks. He scrubs a hand through his hair. Looks at the empty spaces on the wall.

He tries to imagine what happened. Did he just toss it all? Coldly? Methodically? No, Hob doesn’t think so. If he had he would have just gotten rid of the rest of Dream’s stuff, too.

What he can imagine is a fit of rage, with his real target, Dream, having fled, and only the supposed distraction, his life’s work, left behind.

Dream's ex-boyfriend is watching him warily. He seems nervous about what Hob might do, like Hob is an unpredictable animal. Good. Maybe he'll understand how Dream's felt. “You got what you came for,” he says. “Just go.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to decide if I'm going to kill you first.”

Dream’s ex takes a startled step back. And Hob really, really wants to just fucking bash this guy’s head in. But he has to restrain himself. Not just because he doesn’t want to get arrested for assault, though that’s also better avoided.

No. It’s really that he doesn’t want to be another violent man in Dream’s life.

As satisfying as it was to throw that first punch in Dream’s defense, making it physical now would be a different matter. If he shows that he’s capable of resorting to real violence to get what he wants, or to punish someone for something, Dream is always going to have that in the back of his head when he looks at him. There will always be a tiny corner of his brain harboring the fear that that impulse could turn on him.

He’s already kind of pushing boundaries by being here at all, and only getting away with it because Dream didn’t actually tell him not to go, just that he himself didn’t want to. God his blood is heated and this asshole definitely deserves to be taught a lesson but it’s not worth putting a crack in Dream’s trust in him.

“You’re lucky I care more about what he thinks of me,” he finally says. Then he gathers all of Dream’s stuff, and makes himself leave. Dream’s ex, wisely, doesn’t say anything else as he goes.

—

Dream is in the middle of trying to paint when Hob arrives. Or rather, in the middle of staring at a canvas, wishing he could paint. He’d bought a large canvas in the hopes that he might try to do something in his old style, something more detailed and precise. But he’s been too intimidated by the prospect to even begin mixing colors.

He keeps finding himself staring at all the empty space in his flat, at walls that should be hung with art. But he doesn’t have any of his large pieces left. They were all sold prior to… the incident… or left behind. He only has the smaller ones that were in his portfolio.

He’s been finding himself regretting selling those pieces. He had never been bothered by it before, but now he wants to track down the buyers and beg for them back. But he won't. Some of those paintings had sold for tidy sums, which is the reason he can afford this flat despite not having a steady job. And he has no guarantee of being able to sell something at that rate again.

He at least has photographs of everything he’s ever sold. The same can’t be said of what he’d kept for himself, or left unfinished.

He startles at the knock on the door, but remembers: Hob said he would come over today.

He still hasn’t been able to shake the need to block the door whenever he’s home, so he has to shove aside a bookcase before he can let Hob in. When he opens the door, Hob is carrying a box, and wearing a pained smile. “Here,” he says, giving it to Dream. “I have more in the car.”

He disappears back down the stairs before Dream can question him, and Dream sets the heavy box down on the kitchen island.

It’s full of his sketchbooks.

For several moments he just stares at them, not daring to touch. How did Hob— did he go to Dream’s flat?

Hob comes back with another two boxes, precariously balanced, while Dream is still staring at the first one. These, it seems, are full of documents, and personal effects, and some of his favorite books.

“How—?” he tries to ask, nearly struck dumb.

“I went to your house,” Hob says. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have. But you deserve to have your things.”

At first, he is only shocked to think that someone would go to such lengths for him. Then, Dream feels a surge of hope. Perhaps—

But. No. Of all things, Hob would have known to grab his artwork. He would have lead with that.

“…Oh,” Dream says quietly, looking down.

“Yeah,” Hob says, face falling. “I’m so sorry, Dream, that’s all that was there— I mean I still have some of your clothes in the car, but—”

“I love you,” Dream says, tearing up. Hob actually went back. To get his things. Even when Dream said it wasn’t worth doing.

When he looks up again, Hob looks stunned. And only then does Dream realize what he’s said. He swallows nervously, but he doesn’t want to take it back. It doesn’t matter if he truly meant that he’s in love with Hob. Because either way, he loves Hob. And no one has ever loved him like this, like it was easy. And without question.

“I—” Hob stammers. “I mean it’s really not—”

Dream takes his hands and squeezes them, and Hob stops talking. “It is,” Dream says. “It is a big deal. To me.”

“Well,” Hob finally manages, voice still tight. “I want you to be happy, Dream. You deserve that.”

It’s not a sentiment Dream is used to hearing directed towards him. But hearing it from Hob makes him feel like… maybe it can be. Maybe it should be.

Dream kisses him, still holding his hands. He feels himself smile into the kiss. Another thing he’s not used to doing, but it feels good.

Hob smiles too, as he cradles Dream’s face between his hands. And even though Hob wasn’t able to recover his art, even though his ex probably destroyed it—which is agonizing to think about—in this one moment, Dream is… happy.

It's so strange that it almost hurts. But he thinks he’s actually happy.

#we're in the final stretches of this fic #this fic that was supposed to be a oneshot XD #physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #cw abuse

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monimccoythings · 2 days

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Alastor x Daughter!Reader: Runaway I (Platonic)

So, what would it happen if Y/N after a lot of time at the hotel, decides to run off and explore the human world? Just like it happened in Helluva Boss I think. This is lighter than the others, but I really wanted to write this one. This could be interpreted as some AU of the Au or even set in the same series after a lot of time has passed.

I know the Grimoire doesn't really look like that and is in the ownership of someone else, but I was thinking that since Lucifer is the King of Hell, he should have at least a copy.

Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason.

Tw: Controlling behavior, possessive behavior, Alastor being a very controlling dad.

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog, @kiraisastay

Things have gotten much better for you since you first arrived. It had finally gotten inside your thick skull that this experience was for real. As crazed as Charlie's dream seemed to be, you couldn't help but believe in her and her goals, given her optimism and enthusiasm. You could say this place was safer than anywhere else you had been crashing for the last ninety years.

But the safety of a place didn't always come hand in hand with feeling safe. And there was only one person to blame for that: Alastor.

If he had been overprotective as a human, as a demon he was much worse. He didn't give a fuck about subtlety anymore. He knew the kind of people that were out there; in fact, he was one of them! Time had proved over and over again you wouldn't make it out there without his protection! He just wanted what was best for you and he also casually happened to know what it was! He was that smart, hahahaha!

As a minor, there was little you could do in Hell, you couldn't drink, you couldn't smoke, you couldn't have sex. So that just nuked three of the most popular hobbies there. Not that you cared much, but it just really left you with a feeling that you didn't belong among the guests and staff friend group due to your youth. The emotional age gap was quite something. And there were times where you felt like the tag-along-kid more than a part of the team.

It was really embarrassing to pull yourself up to one of Husk's stools, ask for the strongest he had, and get served some pineapple juice. He may get a few laughs out of your antics, but you just wanted to fit in.

Sometimes you played with Nifty, since she seemed to be the closest to you in age. Unfortunately, Nifty didn't seem to know any game that didn't involve cleaning or roach mutilation. (how was she even able to find a murderous point of view to Parchis???)

Charlie and Vaggie were too busy managing the hotel and attracting new customers, but you got a feeling they still wouldn't manage to fill that void you seemed to have.

Angel was like the big brother you wished you had had back when you were alive. He loved to gossip with you and Cherri; even when you didn't understand half of what they were saying, it felt nice having some kind of normal teenage stuff around. He also liked to nudge you towards some potential boyfriends, saying that you were in 'in the age' *wink* *wink*. Your dad did not appreciate that.

Alastor wouldn't consider himself a boyfriend blocking dad, Heaven's, no! Just a humble boyfriend murdering dad. So whatever idea of dating or just hanging out with other people your age was out of the question. As soon as you started talking to someone that was in the same age range as you, his shadowy form started to appear behind you and his eyes changed into dials, that was enough for anyone to start running in the opposite direction (he had scared away so many pontential guests it was unreal)

You couldn't even own a phone. Your dad insisted that 'his hotel, his rules'. Any technology that surpassed the 50s was out of the question. (they still didn't have a working phone). If he caught you with one in your hands, specially a VOXTECH phone, even if it was not yours, the battery suddenly started to heat to unbearable levels and you just had to drop it before it exploded in green flames.

Where was the fun loving dad you grew up with? The one that at least had the decency to be a bit more discreet? 'Dead at the prospect of raising a teenage girl!' He liked to say with a laugh.

You talked to Rosie about it, hoping she would talk some sense into him, and he had the nerve to act all innocent and oblivious! Like you were the one being unreasonable!

Somehow, this safe haven had started to become like a prison. You found yourself feeling suffocated and alienated from the others. When you were out there on your own you had lived in fear and trauma, which you hated with all what remained of your heart; but now that you were in a relatively safe place, you felt isolated and trapped. There was no common ground. You needed to breath, to live (or unlive), to enjoy life! You were not a little girl anymore! (҉Y҉e҉s҉ ҉y҉o҉u҉ ҉w҉e҉r҉e҉!҉)҉

So, one day, while helping Nifty clean and hiding from the Radio Demon That Sees It All, you casually stumbled into something very interesting at Lucifer's workshop. It looked like an ancient book, unlike those at the library which you had read and reread over and over again (One could read one too many times Mr. Waddles Goes to Church before it started to get old).

Something in that book drew you towards it, you knew you shouldn't look. It was probably full of ancient demonic knowledge, but maybe a teensy weensy peek wouldn't hurt, right?

Your face lighted up when you opened the book, (and not only because the light was coming from it). There were no words to describe what you found inside. You could see everything inside of it, it was like it was filled with everyone's dreams and hopes, you wondered how something as beautiful as that had ended up in Hell.

Without thinking, you touched the pages which felt warm to the touch. In response to your delicate caress, the pages started shining even brighter. You were so mesmerized by it that you didn't notice how the room was starting to fill with small orbs of light that started moving around you at impossible speeds, like a tornado.

Crafting materials, toy ducks and gizmos were sent around the room due to the force of the movement. But you didn't pay them any attention. There was something truly magical about the orbs' dance. It was enrapturing.

The door shot wide open, revealing Lucifer, Charlie and Vaggie with an horrified look in their faces. They were shouting something at you, but you could barely hear them, too lost in the orbs and their hypnotic dance. So distracted that you didn't feel the chilling presence that joined them until he spoke.

"Y/N, my dear? ." You felt a shiver run down your spine and your heart filled with the fear of a child who knows they have been caught doing something they shouldn't. You could perfectly hear his radio filtered voice, clear as a day, quiet as the calm before the storm. "Step away from that book, cherie. You could get hurt, and we don't want that, do we? ." He spoke with the kind of condescending tone one would use with a little kid.

A new sudden emotion emerged within you, something you had never felt before and never had any need for it. Anger. Who was he to stop you? Why did he always treat you like you were one of his puppets? Like you were another toy he could dress up and command as he pleased? Why couldn't he let you live?.

Feeling braver, probably due to the book's influence, you looked at his red eyes defiantly, once again touching the pages. Despite his permanent smile, you could tell he was getting angrier by the second.

"Y҉/҉N҉" His body was morphing, growing, eyes already changing to those red radio dials that gave you the chills. "I҉ ҉F҉O҉R҉B҉I҉D҉ ҉Y҉O҉U҉-҉"

"No!" You found yourself surprised at your own voice."I lost my life for you, I got sent here because I tried to protect you, I wasted my life because of you!" That last part came a bit more demonic sounding than intended. "Now. I WANT TO LIVE."

And with that, you were enveloped in a bright light and dissapeared.

For a couple of seconds, nobody dared to make a move. After what felt like hours, reality seemed to kick in and everyone sprung into action; Lucifer desperately searching through the pages of a suddenly very uncooperative book, just in case you had been sucked in, Vaggie was already establishing a perimeter around the hotel and search parties, and Charlie, poor sweet Charlie was franctically looking through every single room on that floor.

The only one who hadn't moved yet was Alastor. Already shrunk back to normal size, he seemed completely relaxed and chill in what could be considered an extremely catastrophic situation to any parent.

"Ah, must be those teenage hormones kicking in." His voice sounded as cheery and joyful as always. Almost like he didn't care. Lucifer shot him a venomous look, silently urging him to show a little care for his MISSING DAUGHTER. But Alastor had already retreated back into the shadows and returned to his radio tower.

If only they knew.

The truth was that Alastor cared. Way too much. He sunk his claws into the table while he fought against the deeply buried instinct in him to let himself loose and destroy everything in his path. The chains in his neck, glowed menacingly, a bitter reminder that he wasn't at full power.

He had lost you. Again.

He had you there, close enough to reach and you had vanished before he was able to do something. You had run away.

The mere thought made his hands shake with anger, antlers already growing twice their normal size. How could you? After everything he did for your sake, for your safety, y҉o҉u҉ ҉d҉i҉s҉o҉b҉e҉y҉ ҉h҉i҉m҉??? His smile looked more like a grimace and his eyes were pools of red hot rage. Oh, you were so grounded when he got you back.

Now you were out there, who knows where. All on your own. Defenseless, at the mercy of his many enemies without anyone, HIM, to protect you.

He sent his shadows into the city, he would leave no stone unturned no crackden untouched until he found you. He didn't care who he had to kill, maul or destroy. You would be coming back with him. Only HE could keep you safe, whetever you wanted it or not.

His desperation only grew when his shadows came back empty handed, the crazed look in his eyes combined with the slasher smile only made him look like the deranged psychopath he actually was.

You weren't in the Pride ring. He was even starting to doubt you were in Hell at all. What was the last thing you had said?

His non beating heart gave a painful twist when your parting words echoed in his mind. The bitterness and resentment in your voice hurt his tainted soul in ways no other person could have. His claws dug even deeper in the wood.

No.

All he wanted was to keep you safe back at the hotel, to ensure no one in this hellish landscape ever laid a finger in your delicate skin. He was just being a good father. You may not understand it, and probably never would. That's irrelevant.

He had found you again after nearly ninety years since that fatidic night when he lost it all, he was not going to allow anybody to take you away from him.

A theory started forming in his twisted mind. You had said that you wanted to live. Alastor was no fool, he knew what the Grimoire could do, in fact he had been dying to take a peek himself. Whatever you had wished, would have probably come true. His grin turned sour.

You had gone where he couldn't follow.

The mortal plane.

Who knew the kind of horrors you were facing up there? The kind of fools that would dare to disrespect the child of one of Hell's most powerful overlords?

He couldn't go there, at least not physically. If he could synchronize his radio frequency with the ones on Earth, he may be able to locate you before some fuckwad up there decided to have their way with you.

"We're on air"

#hazbin hotel #alastor #x reader #reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #tw: controlling behavior #tw: possessive behavior

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echobx · 2 days

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not my type - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: you meet Rafe at a bar and he starts flirting with you. little do you know that he's also the reason you are in the obx at all because you are taking care of a business deal for your dad

warnings: swearing, smut (p in v (protected), face sitting, dirty talk)

word count: 3k

author's note: for my wifey @notdxbya <3 also, I'm aware that Rafe is a little ooc here, that's because I pictured him after Ward is dead, and he has gotten clean and is healthy and taking care of business. that's all. this is my first time actually writing Rafe and I'm lowkey scared lol

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You are sitting at a bar and the guy a few seats over keeps looking at you. Usually when guys looked at you, they did it with a kind of disgust, but he looked more intrigued than anything. “What's your issue, asshat,” you scoff without looking at him, downing your drink. “Nothing, just looking,” he shrugs his shoulders, a smirk playing on his pink lips. “You're not my type,” you say, eyeing him carefully. The short light blonde hair, muscles covered by a flimsy linen button down, gold rings bejeweling his long fingers. “Shame. You aren't mine either,” he replies, but he licks his lips; his eyes darting down to your cleavage. Boobs pressed together in a red corset. “That why you keep looking?” you laugh and gesture at the bartender to get you another drink.

“Where are you from?” the guy asks while getting up and walking over to you, taking the seat next to yours. He’s tall, taller than any guy you'd ever been with. “Not from here,” you smile cheekily and take a sip from your drink. “I figured,” he laughs, and it sounds genuine. “I'm Rafe, by the way.” “Y/n,” you reply, taking his hand that he's holding out for you to shake. “So, what are you doing here?” he asks. “I don't know if I should share such information with a stranger,” you whisper. “Stranger? We're on a first name basis already, sugar.” “Sugar?” you lift an eyebrow, and he rubs his jaw, maybe to show defeat, but you're not sure. “Guess, I'm too cocky for you.” “No, I like it when guys know what they want. But as we've already established, we're not each other's type,” you remind him.

“And what is your type?” he asks, leaning against the bar and looking at you through his blue eyes. “I'm not into blonde guys,” you say and take another drink. “I know why I'm not your type, not even hard to figure that one out. It's always the same with guys like you.” “Guys like me?” He seems offended by your assumption, but you elaborate anyway. “Guys who live off daddy's money, who spent their whole days golfing or fucking; preferably a different skinny bitch every single day. Guys who think they are the epitome of humanity,” you say, not really paying as much attention to his wonder struck face as you should. “Guys like you would never go out with a girl like me, because social standards are the only thing you ever believed in.” “Interesting. Are you always this shallow or do I have to go dye my hair?” he jokes. “I speak from experience,” you look at him, and he purses his lips for a moment before emptying his glass. “Just a year earlier and you might've been spot on there, sugar.” “I'm rarely wrong,” you whisper. “What changed?” “My dad died.” “My condolences.” “It's okay, I'm over it by now,” he shakes his head lightly. “I see,” you look away and let the uncomfortable silence settle between the two of you.

“Are you gonna tell me where you're from?” he asks. “You can guess. Got a free pass on it after my half right assumptions,” you smile, and he reciprocates it, adding a little huff. “All right. You're on vacation, no boyfriend, and you're just looking for a little fun.” You laugh loudly. “You just described literally every girl in this bar. Try a little harder, darling.” “Okay, fine. You're from the city. You know what you want and are not afraid to take it.” “Warmer, but still not there,” you wink at him. “Okay, help me out here, sugar,” he sighs defeated. “Just give me one weirdly specific one, doesn't have to be correct, just try it,” you search his eyes for a second before looking away again. “You made a completely wrong assumption about a stranger based on your insecurities.” His words hit you hard and raw, but you didn't let it show. “Enlighten me, then,” you challenge him, and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “You don't think I think you're hot, when the opposite is the case.” Your heart starts pounding in your chest, and you feel the all too familiar heat rise in your cheeks and stomach. Clearing your throat, you down your drink, immediately asking for another one. “Didn't expect that one, did’ya,” he taunts. “Shame that you're not my type,” you flip your hair to the side, running your fingertips over the edge of the glass in front of you. “I could change your mind on that,” he suggests. “I'm not keeping you from trying,” you chuckle, and the next few hours are spent with shameless flirting and drinking.

The next day you get yourself ready for a meeting. You are supposed to meet with some rich asshole and work out a deal that will benefit both his and your dad's company. You get to the meeting early, making sure that your suit fits and checking your makeup in the restroom before letting the receptionist lead you to the conference room. “Mr. Cameron will be with you in a bit,” she tells you, eyeing you wearily before stepping away. You set up your laptop and the paperwork, but the man is late, something you have always hated. You walk to look out the window and onto the sea when you hear the door open and someone walks in. “Thank you for taking some time and waiting for me, there was an incident in the office that I needed to take care of,” he says and sits down without looking at you and not seeing the shocked expression on your face. Rafe looks even hotter in the suit than he had the night before, and you hate that you even think of him like that. “No problem,” you smile and walk behind him to your seat when his head perks up. “You-” the words seem to be stuck in his throat. “I'm supposed to take care of this deal since my father has an important appointment in New York that came in just yesterday,” you explain. “I see. We should get to it then,” he nods and after three hours of extensive discussion you have finally come to a mutual agreement that you know will be to your father's liking.

“Why didn't you mention any of this last night?” he asks. “If I had known your last name, I would've. But also, you should update your website. I was prepared to meet with someone else, your dead father, I presume.” “Yes, I should,” he mumbles. “Good,” you nod and pack your things together, wanting to leave and get back home as quickly as possible. “Do you like dinner?” he blurts out just as you are about to step out of the room. “Who doesn't?” you smirk. “Would you go out with me?” Rafe asks more directly, and you bite your cheek before nodding. “Good, I'll pick you up later. You're staying at the Country Club, right?” he asks and you nod again. “Perfect. 8pm, I won't be late,” he smiles, and you laugh a little while stepping out and walking.

The evening came quicker than you expected, and you found yourself sitting opposite Rafe at a fancy restaurant. “Are you always trying this hard for a hookup?” you ask bluntly, and he nearly chokes on his steak. “Excuse me?” “You heard me pretty well,” you say and take a bite of your food. “I usually don't, no,” he finally answers, nipping on his wine. “You're very direct.” “That something bad?” you cock an eyebrow and he shakes his head. “No. It's nice, like a fresh breath even. Dating is rather boring when you've lived in the same spot your whole life.” “Never had any issues with it to be honest, at least when it comes to the diversity of it.” “Hardly comparable, New York and Kildare,” he notes. “So, this is a date?” you question, and he smiles to hide the light blush that creeps on his cheeks. “Would your dad be okay with you dating a business partner?” “My dad isn't here, and we don't know if this is a date yet,” you counter, and he puts his hands up in defense. “I'm not about to ruin a good deal is all I'm saying.” “Well, you're still not my type, so it's probably better anyway.” “Right,” he mumbles and gets back to eating.

After some time you find back to a more easy-going manner, just like you had the night before. But the more he flirts with you, the less you can remember why you had initially not had any interest in him.

“I just have one question,” you say as you stand next to him in the elevator that leads you down to the garage where he had parked. “And?” “Have you ever even been with anyone like me?” you eye him wearily as he's towering next to you. “No, but there's always a first time round, right?” In a split second decision you pull him down by his collar and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and his tongue is dancing with your own, his hands are grabbing your ass harshly. You would continue to make out with him if the elevator doors didn't open to let in a few more people. It was unnecessary to pretend like nothing had happened because he has your lipstick all over his face, and you put your hand in front of your mouth to hide your wide grin.

Rafe drives like a maniac, but you don't mind it while his hand is holding onto your thigh, squeezing harshly. “I don't think that's the right way,” you tell him, but he just smiles at you and keeps driving without saying anything. You come up to a mansion, and he parks out front and helps you out, like a true gentleman. “That your place?” you ask and he nods. “Thought you might want a little more privacy,” he says and leads you inside.

The marble floors are pretty but nothing compared to the ones in your apartment on the Upper East Side. “Cute,” you note. “Wanna show me around a little?” You are aware that he wants nothing more than to just drag you upstairs, but you like how desperate he looks, and you'd like to keep looking at it even if just for a few more minutes. “Uh, sure,” he sighs and leads you around, showing you the kitchen and living room before going upstairs. “That's the office and over there's the-” “Bedroom?” you interrupt him and he smirks. “Yes, unless you'd rather see the whole estate and the boats and-” You cut him off with a kiss, feeling him smile against your lips.

The two of you stumble backwards into the room, helping him take off his shirt before pushing him onto the bed. “I don't like selfish assholes,” you state firmly, slowly opening the buttons of your blouse. “Understood.” He props himself up on his elbows and admires you as you strip for him, leaving nothing but your lingerie on your body. “You still think you can handle this?” You straddle him in his seat and he gulps but nods. His hands rub over your body, over every single curve that you had once been insecure about. “God you're hot,” he hums and starts kissing your tits, sucking on the nipple while his hand is kneading the other. You start rutting against him, his dick twitching under you.

“Can I sit on your face, darling?” you ask a little unsure about his answer but the enthusiastic yes he gives you makes you even more aroused than you already were. You stand, and he pulls your slip down, starting to kiss your stomach and thighs. “Take your pants off, please,” you order and he does it before lying down.

You climb on top, and he harshly pulls you up to his face. Your weight rests on your thighs next to his head as you hover over him. “I’m not going to sit down completely if you don't want that. I'm not gonna be responsible for your death, darling.” “I'm gonna be all right, sugar,” he smirks and starts kissing your wet cunt. “God, you're wet for me, baby,” he moans desperately and pulls you down, thrusting his tongue into you and eating you out as if his life was dependent on it. With every lap of his tongue your orgasm grew closer, and you fell forward against the headboard, holding yourself up with your arms as you moaned and gasped. He sucks your clit into his mouth, making you scream with pleasure, and instinctively grind your pussy over his face as soon as he lets go again. He grabs your ass, practically forcing you to roll your hips into him and making his nose repeatedly nudge against your clit until you come undone on top of him. He keeps on eating you out until he has licked every last bit of your release from your sensitive cunt.

“Yeah, you're definitely not into blonde guys,” he laughs as you lie next to him, heavily panting. “Definitely.” You watch him grab a condom from the nightstand and a few moments later he's balls deep inside of you, filling you out like no one ever had.

“Jesus, fuck, you feel so good, sugar,” Rafe praises you. “Don't you fucking dare,” you moan as he hits your cervix, making you squirm under him. “Shit, you want me to be mean to you? I can do that,” he laughs and pulls out again, manhandling you onto your stomach and pulling your ass in the air. “That's the best ass in the fucking world, sugar,” he moans while pushing into you again. “Fuck, Rafe,” you scream because his thrusts hit even deeper in this position and his balls keep slapping against your clit. “You wanna act like a bitch, you gotta be able to take it,” he grunts, slapping your ass and making you whine. “More,” you beg, and he leans down to bite your waist. “Won't be able to wear anything revealing unless you want everyone to know how much of a slut you are being for me,” he growls and wraps your hair around his hand in a makeshift ponytail to pull your back flush to his chest. “What would your daddy say if he knew how we finalized his deal? If he knew that the only reason I went easy was because I wanted to rail his darling daughter. If he knew that I got to defile you.”

“Rafe,” you have tears in your eyes, but he’s nowhere close to stopping, and you really don't want him to ever stop. You love how full of him you feel. Rafe takes his hand and starts playing with your tits while the other comes down to rub your clit. “You wanna cum on my dick, sugar? Wanna make daddy proud?” You whine in response, and he stops touching you, pushing you back down and lying down on top of you. His thrusts are relentless and harsh while your make-up runs down your face. “Such a good slut for me. Might just keep you here as my personal sex slave. Would you like that, sugar?” His hot breath is on your ear, and you cry out as he goes to slap your thigh. “Answer me.” “Yes, Rafe. Am your slut. Only yours.” “Wasn't that hard, was it,” he groans and sits back up, pulling your ass back up with him.

He's still not stopping, and you don't know where he got that much stamina from because every time you try to crawl away from his dick he keeps pulling you back. "Tststs, don't you dare,” he admonishes and slaps you harsher each time. You're so close to cumming, but he won't let you, no matter how much you whine and beg. “I know you can take it. I'm not gonna let you cum until I'm done with you. A deal's a deal,” he laughs and fucks you even faster.

Your throat has gone sore from all the screaming and moaning when he finally starts playing with your clit again. “C’mon now, baby. Let go for me,” he hums and kisses your back softly and the band inside you snaps. You can't remember ever having had an orgasm like the one he had just given you and as soon as it was over you craved more. “God, you're tight, sugar,” Rafe groans, his hips stutter as he tried to keep fucking you through it but the grip your pussy has on him is too much, and he lets go too. His head falling to your back while he groans and cums.

“Solid 8.5,” you say just to tease him once he's lying next to you, the sheets pulled over his sweaty body. “Guess I'll have to try even better next time,” he smirks. “I'm not gonna be your sex slave, just to be clear on that.” “Shit, and I've already let the help prepare the dungeon,” he fakes a gasp. “Stop making me like you,” you laugh, and he looks at you, almost dreamy. “What?” you ask slowly, furrowing your brows. “Nothing, just- No, nothing at all,” he shakes his head. “Okay, weirdo,” you roll your eyes and go to stand up. searching for your slip and putting it back on. “What are you doing?” Rafe asks, watching you meticulously; how you pull your skirt up and tug your blouse into it after buttoning it up. You run your hand through your hair while pulling your heels back on. “I'm leaving. Have to catch my flight tomorrow morning and my shit is still at the hotel,” you remind him. “So, that's it? One night to remember?” “Yeah, wasn't that the plan all along?” you laugh, and he mirrors it slightly uncomfortable. “Yeah. Definitely.” “Besides, I'm responsible for this deal, and I'm not gonna let it go to shits, not even for a good fuck.” “A real businesswoman,” he mumbles. “Maybe you find your way to New York one day,” you smile at him before stepping out of the door, just to lean back and look back at him. “Oh, and you’re still not my type.”

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please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @drwstarkeyy

part 2

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfiction #~fanfiction #smut #my writing

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snailpaste · 2 days

Note

Can i get some McSugarDaddy Crocodile headcannons but reader actually has feelings for croco? ive been thinking about this a little too much lately

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile x GN!Reader

CONTENT: Crocodile x GN! Reader, SFW, kind of mutual pining

AN: This isn't what i wanted but if I didn’t post it now I think it’d just go to the great fic graveyard in my drive (30 and counting) sorry for the wait ;-;

You’d caught crocodile’s eye at one of the many Gala’s he hosted (after all, charity was always a brilliant way for him to further his influence, to make connections and gain power), where he’d struck up conversation with you after asking to share a drink. It had gone well, and by the time the event had drawn to an end he’d given you his den den number and offered to pay for your taxi home.

Crocodile wasn’t one to chase after people, much more content to work on furthering himself or his many business enterprises. He simply didn’t need to – there were enough many men and women willing to fling themselves at him should he ever be in need of company – which is why he found it so strange that, not but two days after meeting you at a Gala, here he was, den-den pulled closer towards him on his desk than usual, eyes flickering to it every so often as he worked through the growing heap of paperwork.

rest under cut ->

If anyone were to ask why, not they would ever question him, he’d simply tell them he was waiting on an important business call, rather than hoping for a stranger, who’s laugh he unfortunately hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, to call.

Your arrangement started as “purely transactional,” in the words of Crocodile.

He didn’t expect sexual favours (at least, to begin with) but simply wanted your company at events, a presence beside him to help gnaw away at the tedious meetings and public appearances he endured in the name of business. You’d wake up with a voice message on your den den, telling you to be ready at 7, with details scarce aside from to check your mailbox, inside which was a new outfit fitting for whatever event he saw fit to bring you to. Over time as he learned more about you, they became more and more tailored to your tastes.

He kept things distant at the start. His touches were modest, an arm around your waist or shoulder, a hand guiding you at the small of your back, but nothing more. You found yourself begging to crave his touch, leaning into the warmth of his palm or wrapping your own around his arm.

His conversations, while interesting, never betrayed any of his true emotions, and he opted to leave you with cash rather than buying anything else for you specifically. Gradually, you began to hope might actually start to open up to you. What did he look like unguarded? How did he look when he was at peace

As the weeks passed, you found yourself growing accustomed to his presence, the initial intimidation and curiosity replaced by a quiet comfort. Crocodile listens to whatever you have to say intently, eyes never leaving your face, always asking the right questions and relishing in the way you blush when he leans closer to you, blowing cigar smoke out the window and brushing your hair out of your face.

While Crocodile isn’t out of touch with his feelings, he does prefer to ignore them. He immediately noticed how you changed towards him, leaning your head into his hand when he cupped your cheek and laughing a little bit more openly, and sneaking looks when you thought he didn’t notice – he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart feel just a little warmer.

Your dates, as you unknowingly began to phrase them much to his amusement, became far more frequent, with him using anything as an excuse to be around you for longer. Crocodile, it seemed, had an uncanny ability to understand your desires. He took you to places and events you’d been wanting to go to without you asking, such as art galleries, cosy bookstores and grand libraries, or bookings at theatres or cinemas.

Crocodile encourages you to pursue any and all of your interests- there’s nothing he admires more than when you go off on a tangent about something you’re passionate about, or your dedication. With him, money isn’t an issue, he’ll happily pay whatever fees you might need to achieve.

Your relationship progressed from you being a pretty thing draped off of his arm, another way for him to flaunt his wealth and power, to something more personal. He surprised you with a visit to something you’d mentioned excitedly to him weeks ago, booked the wing of a restaurant you fancied for just the two of you, and invited you with him to the opening evening of an exclusive art exhibition of his favourite movement.

It was only when he caught himself thinking about you with a smile while smoking his evening cigar, that crocodile decided to address how he felt– whatever it was.

After a long night that left you nodding off and leaning against him, crocodile opted to take you back to his house. He’d carried you up to a guest room with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders, placing you down in the bed and mumbling a soft good-night into your hair. It was then that, in your half-asleep stupor, you accidentally confessed your feelings, clinging sleepily to his shoulders and mumbling for him to stay with you. He didn’t make a big deal of it, but he felt his heart skip a beat, and allowed you to cuddle against his chest until you fell asleep.

The following morning he told you plainly and simply, wanting to cut the tension that ran thick as you drank him out of the corner of your eye (and how could you not, with normally slicked back hair in loose waves, ringed hands sliding you a coffee across the island, his bare chest peeking through his dark brocade dressing gown) that he was interested in you, interested in a relationship more than this.

After this, he begins to open up- lets you run your hands through his hair from behind, and stay at his house as often as you’d like. His laughs become lighter and more genuine, and you find he has a dimple in his left cheek whenever he smiles just so.

He still buys you gifts and treats you, but now they’re far more intimate, and more tailored to your tastes than ever. He takes you with him on his business trips around the globe, letting you soak in the sun or encouraging you to explore the attractions while he attends to business.

He surprises you with gifts delivered directly to your house, a box of your favourite treats, each delicately wrapped in coloured paper, a potted plant he collected from your shared trip to alabasta, or something he saw you looking at or considering buying with his own note attached. Another time, he appeared at your doorstep with an assortment of flowers, (he’s very into “classic courting”) each flower was one he picked carefully to reflect a message to you.

His love languages are quality time and acts of service, but he craves physical touch and, as you find, becomes quite clingy when he’s tired. He loves sharing baths with you, holding you to his chest and relaxing in the warm bubbles, and on his one day of rest per week, lazing around in bed with you during the early morning hours.

The time he realised he was well and truly in love with you was when you were sitting in his lap, his arm looped around your waist and hand smoothing over your cheek, as you had reached up to trace your fingertips over his raised scar. He’d felt his heart jump into his throat at the feeling, realising he’d never allow anyone else to touch him there, and when you smiled at the light dusting to his cheeks, he realised he was well and truly fucked.

#snailpaste: moots #snailpaste: inbox #snailpaste: writing #op:crocodile #crocodile x gn reader #crocodile x gender neutral reader #one piece x gn reader #one piece x gender neutral reader #crocodile x reader #one piece x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

AITA for giving a friend tickets to a concert that I originally bought for a different friend?

This kind of petty drama tbh but my friends are divided over this whole thing and I worry that the way I acted was wrong.

I (16) bought 4 tickets to a concert that I really wanted to see, intending to ask my friends to go with me for my birthday. Because I was the one who wanted to go, and I know none of my friends are super into this artist, I thought it was only fair that I bought the tickets. They were like £70 each and I spent some of the money I got as gifts to buy them.

I asked 1 friend who has kind of been my on and off best friend for the past 4 years, we'll call her E, to go with m. She asked if we could also invite someone she's friends with, who I don't know that well- let's call her O. I wasn't super happy with the idea but I really wanted E to come and I thought maybe it could be a good way to get to know O more. The asked a few of other friends if they wanted the last ticket but they were either busy or didn't know if they would be allowed (the concert was happening in another city) so the last ticket wasn't claimed for a while.

The week of the concert arrived and I ended up in hospital because I dislocated my knee. I was told I probably shouldn't go to a concert because I should be on rest for a few days. I was pretty upset but there wasn't really anything I could do about it. I let E know I couldn't go anymore and that I was just gonna post the tickets for sale online. I told her she could buy hers if she still wanted to go. She didn't reply so I had a feeling she was pissed about it. On the day of the concert, the tickets hadn't been bought. I was home from school all day but a few of my friends came by after to see how I was doing.

This is when I learned that E had told everyone that I had given her all four tickets and that she had told two guys from the year above that they could have my ticket and the spare one for free if they gave her and O a ride to the concert. I tried calling E but she didn't pick up or reply to texts. I'll admit I was kind of angry. The girls who came to see me after school said they would buy the tickets from me and go to the concert if the tickets were still available. So I sold them the tickets for £50 each (that was all the had on them at the time and I was fine with getting at least some of the money back versus giving them to E and some random people for free) and they went to the concert.

A few hours before the concert started, E showed up at my house and asked for the tickets. I told her I had sold them to some other friends and she kicked OFF. She said I had given her at least her and O's tickets as a gift and that I couldn't just take that back. She had the guy from the year above come up to my house and ask where the tickets were too, though he seemed confused about the whole thing and was pretty understanding when I said I had bought them for my birthday but got injured so I decided to sell them. Eventually my mum had to ask them to leave because E was just yelling at me, saying that I was a shitty friend, and I was pretty upset.

Things have been so tense in school since the concert. Some of my friends don't believe that I never promised E all of the tickets after I got injured, so they're really mad at me and the friends who went to the concert. The whole thing is really awkward and I'm starting to feel like maybe it was an asshole move on my part. I don't know. E basically hasn't spoken to me since. I knew she had made plans with the tickets so I guess it was bad of me to sell the tickets to those other friends. I just feel like she shouldn't have assumed I would give them all away to her for free? Especially when I told her ahead of time that she could buy the tickets, otherwise I was gonna try selling them. She never replied to let me know she wanted them. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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vbecker10 · 2 days

Text

@soubi001 sent me something on tiktok and I thought it sounded like something Loki might say lol so here it is (I added a screenshot from the tiktok below if tie curious what it was originally)

I also remembered there was a meme from a while back that kinda fit here so...

Tony Stark showing the team around the upgraded pantry after renovations were made to the Tower

Loki: I think that is a bit misleading

Tony: What are you talking about?

Loki: This note, a small family... Is that parents and one child or two? Are the children still young? There is no way four bodies would fit in here

Bruce: What?!

Tony: No, no, no... this is not for bodies!

Natasha: I was thinking the same thing actually

Tony: It's for a small family to store their food!

Loki: Hmm... still seems an odd note

Tony: Can we just move on?

Bruce: Yes please

Walks from the pantry into the kitchen and points out the new appliances

Tony: ... and the new garbage disposal is rated for bones

Loki: What kind? I assure you there is a big difference between a finger and a femur

Tony:...

Clint: I think he means chicken

Loki: Oh, that makes much more sense

Tony and the rest of the team take a small step away from Loki

Loki: This is one of those "there are two types of people" situations I've heard of

Thor: Yes...

Loki: Perhaps I should keep my thoughts to myself for the remainder of the tour?

Tony: Please do

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki

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feyreswaterybowels · 1 day

Text

⭒The Silent One⭒

Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒ Part 1 ⭒ Part 2 ⭒ Part 3 ⭒

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Azriel finds the guy that sold Cassandra. Lots of bonding happens with Cassandra, Azriel and other members of the IC. Slight cliffhanger.

Warnings/Tags: mentions/implied rape. Mention past sexual abuse. Slow burn. Violence. Brief victim blaming. Found family. Protective!azriel. Protective!IC. GRAMMER ERRORS—I plan on going back to edit this please don’t judge me too hard I’m gonna have a busy week and just really wanted to get this posted for y’all🩷

Authors Note: all reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next chapter. Regular italics are inner thoughts and bold italics are mental communication.

Azriel stands in the darkness of night watching. Waiting. Body thrumming with anger. Calm cold anger. The kind that got people killed if they didn’t give him what he was looking for.

Only moments after Cassandra’s departure had his shadow returned to him. Telling him where to find this Vale. This horrid male who was taking females away from their family and selling them off—profiting off of them like livestock.

He sees the male, recognizes him from the briefs flash of memory Cassandra let slip at dinner, the one where this mad had choked her, slammed her against the wall just for needing to use the restroom.

The male is loading something up in the back of a wagon, the building behind him dark and dingy. Azriel let his shadows take him closer. Closer. Until he was standing in the alley between this man's house and another. The smell was horrid, small creatures scurrying about looking for their meal for the evening.

The male retreats into the building and Azriel lets a shadow loose to follow him—to be his eyes inside of this building. Inside is just as dark and dingy and piled high to the roof with…stuff. The blue skinned male navigates the maze of boxes and bins and trash with ease. He seems to be the only one here but Azriel knew better so he waits following the man through the seemingly endless maze.

That’s when he hears it, his shoulders going tight, his jaw clenching. Crying—no sobbing. A girl begging to be left alone as the male grabs her and pins her down to the floor.

“Fuck,” he growls. He pounds his fist against the outside of the building, taking chucks of the stone out. It’s loud enough to distract the man, to get him away from that girl as he rushed from the room under the floor, locking the locks and coming out. Looking around wildly for the source of the sound.

Azriel winnows, leaning against the wagon the man had been loading before, whistling to get the man attention. He whirls around, black eyes narrowed in anger, freezing in place when they land on him.

“Shadowsinger?” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at Azriel. “What brings you to these parts?”

Azriel looks him over, the smell of shit, piss and rot was overwhelming even from this distance.

“Vale,” Azriel says, to let the male know he knows who he is, rightfully see the fear in his eyes. “I’m looking for something and I hear you’re the one to help me.”

“I ain’t got nothing you need, pretty boy,” Vale sneers, crossing his arms, looking Azriel over. Trying to come off as tough but it’s actually laugh-able.

“Are you sure?” Azriel asks, pushing off the wagon. Letting his wings spread wide, walking closer, towering over the male. “See, I’ve got this female telling me you bought her from her dad and sold her to a pleasure house. I mean, tell me I’m wrong, man. I’ve just gotta check on these things. It’s a pretty serious accusation and all.”

“That chick’s got the wrong guy. I would never do something like that. These bitches are always trying to get us males in trouble,” Vale said, seeming to relax. Big mistake.

“You think so? Just tell me if you know her man. About this tall, really pretty, tan skin, white hair. Wings.” Azriel growls the last word, the man’s eyes widening again, taking a step back.

“Look, man, it’s not like that. Her dad owed me money, so he gave me her instead cause he couldn’t afford to pay me back, okay? So I didn’t technically buy her,” He stammered out, trying to explain himself.

“Oh,” Azriel said, nodding his head. “Well, I mean, if you didn’t technically buy her then no law was broken.”

“That’s right!” The male nods, sighing in relief. “No law was broken, man. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t do that—”

“Yeah. I get it,” Azriel nods, shifting. Looking towards the building, then back to the low life in front of him. “And that female inside? Did you buy her? Is she here of her own free will allowing you to rape her daily?”

“Fuck,” Vale whispers, turning and running down the cobble stone road. Azriel stands there watching, a grin stretching his lips as he lets the male think he’s getting away.

“Send Morrigan,” He calls out to Rhys as he watches the male.

“She’s coming.”

Then he's gone again, just as Vale looks over his shoulder to try and spot him, only to smack hard into a body that came out of nowhere. He looks at the shadowsinger towering over him, swallowing thickly.

“What do you want from me?” The male nearly cried out as Azriel grabbed him and pulled him up, slamming his face first into a stone wall. The resounding crunch of his nose breaking is ever satisfying.

“Her name is Cassandra,” Azriel snarls into the man's ear. “She told us what you did to her. What you did to that female you have locked in that disgusting building. We know there’s more girls. We will find them all and when we do, I’ll let each one take a turn with you. Their weapon of choice. And you’ll feel exactly what they felt.”

“Ple-please. Please, just kill me,” The man begged, fighting in Azriel’s grasp but he was no match for Azriel’s strength.

“And what kind of justice would that be? Did you stop when those girls begged you to? Did you give them death with they would have preferred that over you using their bodies?” Azriel asked, scenting the smell of urine as the man pissed himself. “You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you.”

Before the pathetic excuse of a male could beg or plead any more Azriel grabbed the back of his head, smashing it into the wall, letting him fall unconscious to the ground. He left him there binded and hidden by shadows, stalking back to the building where he spotted Morrigan easily.

“Don’t tell me this is where he’s been keeping those poor girl?” She asked when she spotted him approaching.

“Unfortunately, I think it is. She said under his house but he could live here. I’ll question him more. I know there’s at least one female inside,” Azriel explained, guiding Morrigan into the building. Be could get the female on his own but he knew it was safer to have a female companion—after all they’d been through the least he could do was make sure a female was the one to comfort them.

They get to that basement floor, unlocking the various locks and pulling the hatch open. It’s as dark and dingy down here as it was in the rest of the building. Morrigan enters first, taking Azriel’s hand to steady herself on the old wobbly stairs.

“Your wings won’t fit down here,” She said, hushed. He nods at her. “Send a shadow if I call for help.” It’s said jokingly but he knows she’s serious. He’d rip the floor from this building to help her if she needed it.

Mor squinted her eyes in the dimness of the sellar, resisting the urge to plug her nose from the horrid smell.

“Hello? Is anyone down here?” She calls out, looking up from at Azriel when there’s no reply. “Hello, my name is Morrigan. I work for the High Lord. The male keeping you here is—”

Morrigan’s cut off when I body slams into hers, knocking her to the ground. She cries out in surprise when a sharp sting slices across her cheek.

“Stop, hey, stop! I’m here to help!” Mor calls out, trying to catch the hands of the female fae on top of her.

“Mor!” Azriel’s deep voice calls.

“I’ve got it!” Mor calls back, grabbing the girls wrists. “Please, stop! Vale is gone! He can’t hurt you, please, stop!”

The girl stops fighting then still tense where she’s straddling Morrigan’s middle section.

“He’s gone?” She whispers and Mor nods.

“Yes, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you any more. I swear,” She promises. Eyes finally able to take in the sight before her.

A fragile, naked, malnourished body sits atop her. Eyes not only shut but scarred as if they’d been cut—maybe by the same person that took Cassandra’s tongue. But what really got Morrigan, what had her ready to lose the contents of her stomach was the rounded belly attached to that nearly skeleton body. Her eyes welled and she helped the female to shift off of her body.

“Are you pregnant?” Mor whispers, trying to keep her voice from breaking as the female nods.

“Please, don’t let him take this one too,” She cries, reaching out to find Morrigan’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me I get to keep my baby.”

“I promise, no one is going to take your baby away from you,” Morgan swears, a single tear falling down her cheek. “What’s your name, sweet girl?”

“Neema, my name is Neema,” She answers and Mors eyes widen. The girl Cassandra told them about.

“You and your baby are safe, Neema. We’re gonna take you away from here, okay?” Morrigan says, standing and helping the pregnant female stand as well.

“I have my friend Azriel here too, he will not touch you, he’s only here to make sure no further harm comes to you. He’s handing me a cloak for you to wear,” Morrigan explains so the female doesn’t feel uncomfortable. She nods, allowing Mor to wrap the cloak around her.

“Are there any other females here?” Azriel asks gently, wishing he hadn’t with the way she clenched at the deep mess of it.

“Not—not that I know of. The females come and go. There’s been no others for months…” Neema answers, grasping the fabric tighter around her body.

Azriel and Mor share a look the last females had to have been Cassandra and the other two she mentioned.

“I’ll stay and check the building before I head back,” Azriel informed, consciously softening his voice so as not to scare the female again.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Morrigan winnows away with Neema and Azriel searches every inch of the building with his shadows. No signs of any other females. He leaves the building, needing to relieve himself of the horrible stench.

He retrieves the still bound and unconscious male, winnowing him to his dungeon. He strips him, places a gag in his mouth, dumps him into a chair and binds him to it. He would be dealt with later.

The sun would be rising soon and he wanted to be there when they informed Cassandra they found the male and the female—her friend?

He enters Rhys' study, Cassian and Mor there too.

“How is she?” He asks, glancing at Morrigan then his brother.

“Resting,” Rhys answers. “Madja looked her over. Thankfully the baby seems healthy, Madja’s main concern is getting Neema to gain some weight and begin healing herself.”

“We offered her to live amongst the priestesses in the library, she agreed,” Morrigan said, her brown eyes bloodshot and cheeks flushed.

“Good, that’s all good, they’ll help her heal,” Azriel nods his head crossing his arms. “I have the male in my dungeon.”

“Have you gotten any information out of him?” Rhys asks, standing from his desk.

“Not much. He admitted to knowing who Cassandra was, receiving her from her father and holding her. He never admitted to selling her but that information won’t be hard to get out of him,” Azriel explains and Rhys nods in agreement.

“You get whatever information you can out of him and then he’s dead,” Rhys orders, Azriel doesn’t need to confirm he already knew what Rhys decision would be.

“Are we telling Cassandra?” Cassian asks, the first words he’s said the whole time.

“We are. She needs to know he’s here, it may bring her some comfort knowing he’s locked away and Neema is safe. I think you should be the one to talk to her, Azriel,” Rhy says, turning his attention to the shadow singer.

“Me? Not Mor?” Azriel asked, a bit confused.

“Yes, you. She’s comfortable with you. You’re the one that apprehended him. I believe she would prefer to hear it from you,” Rhys nods.

“Okay, I can do that,” Azriel agreed.

“You handle that, I’ve got some business to attend to with the priestesses. We’ll all meet up in a few hours to discuss further action.” Rhys stepped around his desk, patting Azriel’s shoulder when he passed by him.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

An hour goes by before Azriel tracks Cassandra down. Finding her in the library, flipping through a book where she’s sat in the large window seat that overlooked the city below. A steaming cup of tea next to her.

“I thought you couldn’t read?” Azriel asks, leaning against the door frame, grinning when those green eyes meet his.

“I can’t. I’m looking at the pictures,” She said, holding up the book, some romance book from the looks of the two people in a colorful garden.

“Ah,” Azriel says, walking further into the room. Trying not to focus on the way her eyes track up and down his body the closer he gets. He holds his hand out for the book, flipping it over the read the title, snorting at it. “Secret Garden Romance, huh?”

She shrugs, taking the book back.

“I asked the house for a book with a lot of pictures, this is what I got,” She said, a small sweet breathy laugh escaped her lips and he couldn’t help his own smile.

“Did you end up getting some sleep?” He asks, watching her set the book down and grab the warm mug.

“I slept but not great,” She shrugs. “I can’t stop thinking about my sisters.”

“We’re gonna do everything we can to find them, I promise you that,” Azriel said, not even waiting for a beat. He would find her sisters and he’d beat the shit out of her father too.

“You know I took my older sister's place. It was supposed to be her he sold off but the way she had cried when he told her. I couldn’t let him do that to her so I told him to take me…I didn’t really know what he meant when he was selling me. I thought I’d be a servant like the ones we had when I was a kid or something. I never thought…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath.

“You’re not to blame for what happened to you. You were protecting your sister. You did a very selfless thing. You're safe now and your sisters will be, too,” Azriel said, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards her.

“Well, what about you?” Cassandra asked, gently changing the subject. “Did you ever get any sleep?”

Azriel sighed with a head shake. “No, actually. That’s kind of why I came to talk to you.”

Cassandra fixed him with a curious look, leaning forward as if to give him her full attention for whatever he needed to say. He looked into those glowing green eyes, filled with curious concern.

“We found that male. Vale. We found him,” Azriel said, watching the vast range of emotions flash through those emerald eyes.

“He’s here?” Is what she asks, fear tinging her voice. Azriel straightens his back.

“He will not touch you,” he declared, holding her gaze. “He won’t even come near you.”

I’ll fucking kill him if he does. He thinks but doesn’t add it out loud.

“He can’t get out of…wherever he is?” She asks, and he wants to reach out so badly to comfort her. The ache in his chest drawing him to her.

“No. He’s being held in a very secure place. I promise you’re safe here. You’re safe with us.” Azriel promises. You’re safe with me.

“Were there any females with him?” She asks and Azriel nods.

“The girl you told us about, Neema. She was the only one there—it had been only her for months.”

He watches as her eyes fill with tears, offering his hand for her to hold. She takes it, thumb tracing his scars unconsciously.

“Just her…alone with him for months. Gods, is she…I feel like okay isn’t the right word for what I want to ask,” She says, sadness written all over her face.

“She will be okay,” Azriel said. “She’s in bad shape. Pregnant, malnourished but we have an amazing healer and a library below the mountain. Many priestesses live there. Many of them have experienced similar traumas. They’ll help her heal.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. He wasn’t sure what was going through her head as she sat there silently, grasping his hand and tracing his scars.

“I want him to die.” It’s fierce. Heated. Emotional. And it does something to Azriel’s heart, to his brain. He squeezes her hand. “I want him to feel everything we felt. To know the fear he put us through. I want him to suffer and then I want him to die.”

“He will die. I swear to the Mother. I’ll get every drop of information from him and when it’s time his death will be painful and slow,” Azriel swore, gently swiping a tear from her cheek.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The next day is a day Cassandra would remember forever. She hadn't slept much the night before but Morrigan had practically begged her to have lunch.

Cassandra wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for a day out in the city but she felt safe with Morrigan. She nearly asked if Azriel could come too until she learned he would be spending the day collecting information from Kamari and Vale.

Morrigan picked out her outfit for the day and it was one of her favorites she’s worn since being here. A flowy silk top that tucked into a dark pair of slacks that raised high on my hips. They emphasized her longer legs in a way she had never noticed before. She had also pinned Cassandra’s hair up and out of her face.

She liked the way Azriel smiled at her when he saw her dressed this way. She blushed but was quickly rushed away by Morrigan, shouting something about wanting you to herself for the day for girl time.

Their first stop was a place she called the River House. A beautiful home that her mother would have loved. Morrigan had only had them stop here briefly to grab a few tote bags, wanting to shop while they were out but promised to bring her back and give her a proper tour of the house.

The city was even more beautiful when you were in it. The sun was shining bright in an endless blue sky. Better than any dreams she had ever had about it.

They went to bakeries, where Cassandra single handedly filled half a tote with various pastries.

Then a clothing shop where Morrigan helped her pick out some new clothes. A few everyday pieces. A gorgeous gown she wasn’t sure where she would wear it but Morrigan swore she would need it sooner or later. And then the softest, satin, dark blue nightgown—it had reminded her of the stones that glowed atop Azriel’s hands. Morrigan herself had picked out quite a few outfits and gowns of her own and a lace set that looked like something the girls in the pleasure houses would wear but she paid no mind to it—she was sure it would look gorgeous on Morrigan wherever she planned to wear it to.

Then they went to a place near the river for lunch, the glistening river was the perfect view while they ate.

“Do you feel like you’re settling in okay?” Morrigan asked, sipping on some kind of iced fruit tea while they waited for their food.

“I’m still…adjusting. I enjoy the company of everyone. I feel like I can trust you all. It’s just odd.” Cassandra says, taking a drink of her tea that was just slightly too sweet but she wasn’t complaining.

“What’s odd?” Morrigan asks gently.

“Trusting strangers more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else,” She says it like a confession, like she should be ashamed for feeling that way.

“I don’t think that’s odd,” Morrigan shrugged. “You’re around people like you, people you can relate to and get to know. It’s easy to feel safe with us in turn, causing your trust. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Cassandra smiles at Morrigan.

Their food comes soon after and they talk the whole time. Morrigan gives her the rundown of how Rhys, Azriel and Cassian all knew one another. She explained more about their titles and what each one of them did as a member of the inner circle. She told her about so much that Cassandra could believe she’d spent her whole live knowing practically none of it.

When they go to a bookstore Cassandra looks at a few before putting them back. Morrigan grabs them and tells her they’ll teach her to read—that she’ll love these books and so many more.

And when they finally get back to the House of a Wind it’s late. She's exhausted from carrying around nearly overflowing tote bags and eating more muffins then she can count.

A top the house where they have to land they’re greeted by the three males. Their solemn faces wiping the smile off your face. She caught Azriel’s eyes, sees the look of pure death there—a look that she just knows means he wants to kill someone.

And just like that, her perfect day with Morrigan took a turn straight down hill.

Tag List: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94 @purple-writer8 @little-missbookyworm @saltedcoffeescotch @namelesssav @slytherintaco @whatsupb

#azriel playing games with that male in the beginning lives rent free in my head #I just know he enjoys fucking with guys like that #thinking they could be all buddy buddy making them feel safe then bam he fucks them up #az and Cassandra got a bit of bonding in #as did Cassandra and Morrigan #besties for the resties #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #slow burn

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fourmoony · 5 hours

Text

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝟐

f!reader x PT!Jamie (modern au) 1.5k words

summary: reader has a bad gym experience and jamie gets protective

cw: working out, mention of potential injury, mentions of sexual harrassment (ass grabbing)

sidenote, that I've seen a lot of this behaviour in the gym before and it makes me sick. writing about it and imagining how jamie would handle it makes me less sick. imagining big strong pt!james making the world better, one set of keys at a time. please, always be aware of your surroundings if you are working out at the gym, especially alone <3

James pulls you out from under the bar of the smith machine by the hips seconds before it clatters to the ground with a sickening thud and clang of metal. You stumble under his harsh hands, land on the ground at his feet and let out a pained whoosh of breath. Luckily, the gym is empty save for the two of you, sparing you the embarrassment of having people watch the commotion.

He's on you in an instant, gentle hands that cradle your neck as he crouches in front of you and pushes your head from side to side with a little pressure from his thumbs. All you can do is blink, try to process what, exactly, just happened. "You're not sore here?" James asks you, brows furrowed and almost touching in the middle, his fingers pressing into the base of your neck.

Your first thought is that James doesn't suit frowning. A silly thought, considering you almost decapitated yourself with a one hundred kilogram squat rack. "No. Just my ass from crash landing." You don't fail to notice the way your voice sounds distant, detached.

James' hands are warm on your neck, a burning touch that you want to lean into. You don't, and it's gone as James collapses down across from you, his elbows resting against his knees. His face turns stern, "What's going on?"

You feel like you're being scolded, and maybe you should be. It's a well known fact that form is everything, that being distracted in the gym can lead to serious injuries. You'd known you wouldn't be able to focus today, you'd known you should've stopped that set and corrected yourself when you could feel the weight more in your back than your legs. But, you hadn't. You're distracted, you're angry. You'd walked into the gym full of frustration and it'd almost ended terribly.

Tears fight their way to your eyes and they burn. You feel a lump forming in your throat that forces you to look away from James. Kind, patient James, who allows you the moment to collect yourself as you pull your legs to your chest. "Shitty week." It comes out mumbled, your voice defeated.

James nods understandingly. "A shitty week doesn't make you lose focus like that, though. There's something more to it."

It's not like James to push. He's friendly and he's kind, he can be a menace when he wants to be, and sometimes you even think he's flirting with you - but he never pushes. You want to open up, you want to step out of that weird area of professionalism you can never seem to get past with him. But unloading your shitty week on him doesn't feel like the way to do that. So you shrug, pulling your knees to your chest until your chin rests atop them, "I'm just stressed. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I knew my form was wrong but I was too distracted to stop and fix it."

"I don't care that your form was wrong," James shakes his head as though offended you'd think such a thing, "I mean," He pauses, searching for the words, "Obviously, I care that it was wrong because you almost got hurt. But what I mean is that you should've told me you were stressed, that you were feeling a bit distracted."

You find yourself nodding, eyes downcast at your crossed ankles.

"I was waiting for you to correct the form yourself. If I knew you were distracted, I'd have told you to stop. I'm sorry, too." James' voice has turned soft, less stern. He nudges his foot until it's in your line of vision, tapping it against yours until you're looking up.

He's waiting with a smile, his eyes gentle and patient. It feels odd. New, foreign. You can't really describe the feeling. "A guy grabbed my ass in the gym, yesterday." You breathe out, unsure really of what it is that's made you tell him.

It could be that you trust him. It's hard not to build trust with someone in James' position, it's literally his job to stop things like one hundred kilogram bar bells falling on top of you. Or, it could be that not telling anyone, reliving how powerless you'd felt, going over everything you could've done differently, it's eating you alive. Sharing this with James, who sees every day what gyms are like, how people in some gyms behave, you have a feeling that he'll get it. That he'll help you process.

But, he doesn't say anything. Just stares with a look that you can't read. The muscles in his arms shift, his hands clenching around each other tightly, and his jaw clenches. You think he might not say anything, though, you know James is better than that. The silence stretches until the tears in your eyes abate, then James finally croaks, "He what?"

Your veins crackle with the anger in his voice, the darkness that clouds his eyes. You'd never have imagined James in such a light if he wasn't sitting right in front of you, the very picture of livid. You shrug, as though feigning nonchalance might abate the white hot anger you know very well the feeling of. "I was doing those stupid kick back thingies you're always on about. Just messing about as a cool down, trying to correct my own form. He came over and started giving me advice, which I thought was just him being nice."

James shakes his head, remorse like a white sheet of dread across his beautiful face. You swallow, picking at a hangnail on your thumb, "He kind of just," You shift your hands as though grabbing your own hips, "Grabbed me like that and my throat went dry. When he was leaving he grabbed my ass and said 'you're welcome'."

"You didn't report him to the gym staff?"

You shake your head, lip trapped between your teeth. "I wasn't even planning on telling you until I nearly killed myself with the smith machine."

James sighs, one of his hands coming up to rub at his face. He looks nauseous, almost. "I'll get you a set of keys for this gym. You can work out here, from now on. No one will bother you."

It's a nice offer. It makes your heart swell and your cheeks heat. James has always gone above and beyond. He fits you into his schedule despite your crazy work hours and never charges you for the session if you have to cancel day of. But the reason you don't have a membership at his gym is because it's not in your price range. So you smile, kind, if a little tight lipped, "James, you know I can't."

"I'm not saying get a membership. I'm saying I'll get you a set of keys. You can come and go as you please, even after work, whatever time you want." His voice is thick, his eyes earnest and almost pleading.

"I can't ask you to do that."

James scoots closer, fingers flexing as though he might reach out for you, but is stopping himself. He chases your gaze, waits until he has it, until your lips part under the weight of it and your heart hammers against your chest, to speak. "You're not asking. I'm offering. I can't believe that happened to you and it makes me so angry. I'm not going to sit by and do nothing about it."

You sigh, unwilling to argue when James sounds so passionate, so sure of himself. A smile makes its way to your lips, timid, unsure, "Thanks, Jamie."

He nods. "Any time."

"Are you sure the owner won't mind?" You ask.

James grins, some of the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes, "He's my best mate, it'll be fine."

He offers you a hand as he stands, the storm clouds passing and the weight already lifting from your chest. It feels brighter, in the gym. You take James' hand, let him pull you up. He does his signature move of tugging you until you're stumbling towards him, his laugh echoing off of the concrete walls when you curse him out for it.

"Start from the beginning?" James asks, moving to return the smith machine to where you need it to be.

You take a breath, watch the way his shoulder muscles strain against his top as he bends and lifts. It brings a smile to your lips, the feeling of familiarity you hadn't felt upon entering the gym earlier. "I believe I was at five reps when I dropped the bar."

James tsks, "Dropping it doesn't count as a rep. Call it four."

"Cruel."

James only winks, offers you his award winning smile as you settle yourself under the bar. This time, with the correct form. He nods, and you twist to unlock, eyes on his in the mirror.

"That's one." He grins, crossing his arms over his chest.

You consider dropping the bar on his head, next.

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taeyongdoyoung · 3 days

Text

strawberries & sunshine

summary: your adorable best friend takes you to a picnic in a secluded spot but his intentions may be far from innocent... pairing: haechan x reader genre: smut, established relationship warnings: cnc/dubcon, corruption kink, innocence kink, pet names (angel, sweetie, my flower, etc.), mention of doctors/made-up sickness, manipulation, bf2l roleplay, inappropriate touching, rubbing, fingering, unprotected sex (pls dont), public sex (there is no one around but still), creampie, safeword is referenced but not used, swearing, degradation (reader is called slut), aftercare author's note: this concept has been haunting me for a while now and i finally gathered enough courage to put it into words 🥴 word count: 1.7k

Your best friend is the sweetest guy in the universe. Haechan is thoughtful, funny and always does kind gestures like bringing you flowers or your favourite chocolates without asking for anything in return. Despite being talkative himself, he always listens to you rant about what’s bothering you, checking to see if you want advice or simply emotional support.

Haechan is also very cute and pretty. Spending time with him truly energizes you and you trust him to have your best interests at heart 100%. Which is why you don’t think twice when he asks you to go on a picnic with him. You love eating and nature, but more importantly, you love being around Haechan, so you find no reason to worry.

When he first mentioned this idea, you assumed you two would go to a park inside the city. But now that the sunny day you chose for your picnic finally arrives, you are stunned that Haechan is driving you two out of the city, entering the mountain nearby.

“Woah, isn’t that a little far away?” you ask in amazement.

“Relax, angel, I’ll take you to the prettiest place,” Haechan responds.

You nod absentmindedly, not even a little bit concerned.

After what seems like forever, Haechan stops the car. He insists on carrying the picnic basket, as well as the blanket, and leads the way into the woods. You walk for around 15 minutes when you are eventually greeted by gorgeous green grass, surrounded by tall trees and birds chirping.

“It’s so lovely, Haechan! How did you find this?”

“I like exploring every once in a while,” he shrugs humbly.

You lay down the blanket, spread out the insides of the picnic basket and sit down, satisfied with the results. There are strawberries, little croissants, ham and cheese sandwiches, French macarons, some homemade kimbap and lemonade. It is so peaceful and quiet here, you really needed an escape from the big city.

You don’t talk much, too busy eating, enjoying the sweet strawberries, the bright sunshine and the lovely atmosphere.

“Oof, I’m so full,” you groan at some point.

“That’s the whole point of picnics, isn’t it?” Haechan chuckles.

“So true!” you laugh.

You two put the remaining food back into the basket and place it on the grass, making space for you to lie down on the blanket.

“To be honest, I’m still kinda hungry,” Haechan murmurs bashfully.

“What? Why didn’t you say so before we put the food away?” you exclaim in surprise.

“Not hungry for anything inside the basket.”

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“I’m not just hungry, I’m also in a lot of pain.”

“Huh? Should we go back to the city for you to see a doctor?” you are instantly concerned for your friend’s well-being.

“Oh, I’ve talked to many doctors already and they all said the same thing. There is only one cure possible for my sickness,” Haechan explains patiently.

“Well, what is it? If there’s anything I can do to help you…” you offer without thinking.

“There is, actually. But do you promise to do anything for me? You’re my best friend, right? You wouldn’t want me to be in pain?”

“Of course not, Haechan! I promise I’ll try to help you but you gotta tell me what kind of pain are you talking about?”

“How about I show you instead?” Haechan’s lips tilt in the slightest of smirk. You are confused by the change of his expression, when he grabs your hand and puts it on his heart. “First, it hurts here.” Then, he moves it so that your hand is now placed on top of his cock. “But it also hurts here.”

“Oh, Haechan,” you sympathize with him. Truly. “This is so strange but I think I might have the same sickness?”

You take hold of his hand and place it on your breasts.

“It hurts me here, as well,” you blink at him softly, then move his hand to your clothed pussy so he touches it through your floral dress. “And here.”

“My angel, I had no idea you were also suffering from this cruel sickness. Do you think maybe…we could be each other’s cure?”

“I don’t know, Haechan…Isn’t it wrong to feel this way?” you express your doubts.

“Oh no, sweetie, it’s completely normal, at least that’s what the doctors said. If we help each other, the pain will disappear.”

“Well, then I guess it’s for the best,” you concede. “The hurt is becoming quite uncomfortable.”

“Same here, my flower. I think we should hurry if we want to cure ourselves of this terrible illness.”

Haechan wastes no more time trying to convince you and climbs on top of you, pressing you down. He spreads your legs apart with one hand, touching and brutally rubbing you through your panties.

“Hyuck, n-no, this isn’t right,” you cry out and try to push him away.

“Shh, my sweet, I’m just trying to cure you first. Don’t you want it?”

“N-no, I’m not sure anymore, please stop,” you whine helplessly but he is too strong to fight off.

“It’ll be over before you know it, just stop struggling, my dear,” Haechan assures you and continues to attack your pussy with his hand. Eventually, he tears your panties apart, sticking his long fingers inside of you.

“P-please, you don’t ha-have to do this,” you try your best to resist but your damn pussy betrays you, squelching noises revealing your juices all for your best friend to see and hear. You would be embarrassed if you aren’t so turned on right now. You come around his fingers so quickly and powerfully that you are unable to think clearly any longer.

“You can help me now, no? I healed you, so now it’s your turn to give me the cure,” Haechan tries to talk you into this.

“I don’t know…” you shake your head. “Maybe there’s another way.”

“There isn’t. Trust me, okay?” Haechan insists. “You promised…”

His reminder, paired with his soft yet cruel smile is more than enough to convince you. But you say nothing as he unbuckles his belt, lowers his boxers and enters you in one swift movement.

“N-no, it h-hurts, Hyuck, p-please,” you whimper around him, as he goes deeper than you could ever imagine, stretching you out to your absolute limits.

“Take it, you slut, going alone into the woods with a guy, acting as if you had no idea what’s gonna happen to you,” Haechan’s words are so unkind, so unlike the sweet guy you’re used to seeing.

“I didn’t know, I swear,” you insist, pushing against his chest with your tiny hands.

“Shut the fuck up,” he laughs meanly, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“N-no, this is wrong, H-hyuck,” you sniffle pitifully. “We’re best friends, we shouldn’t do things like that.”

“Well, best friends ought to help each other no matter what. So, take it like the good little slut you are and cure me of this sickness you caused,” Haechan keeps fucking into you, making you feel so full and satiated.

“Am not a slut,” you argue.

“Oh yeah? Then, why didn’t you wear a fucking bra, huh?” Haechan asks, letting go of your wrists and sliding his hand under your dress, grabbing your tits roughly.

“F-for you,” you admit shamelessly. “Wanna be your good girl, Hyuck.”

“Too bad, because I wanna turn my good girl into a slut,” he snickers at you, spilling his seed inside of your pussy. You come around him without thinking and are foolish enough to think he’s done with you. Taking his cock out and using his fingers to fuck the cum threating to spill out back into your pussy. You are too exhausted to fight back but you do your best anyway.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Making sure the cure is permanent,” Haechan explains calmly as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

Then, without bothering to ask, he flips you around so that you are on your knees, face down, and slips back inside of you smoothly.

“N-no, that’s enough!” you scream in frustration.

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Haechan grunts loudly.

“Nngh, aren’t we cured already?”

“What are you talking about? The disease is only spreading further,” Haechan laughs maniacally at this point.

“Haechan, please, stop, I can’t…” you cry and plead and whimper, again and again.

“You know what to say if you really want me to stop,” Haechan reminds you. But when you say nothing, he continues using your body, right there in the middle of the woods, too far away from society, where no one could possibly hear you asking for help, where you are left entirely at your best friend’s mercy.

Eventually, he exhausts himself after cumming too many times, inside of you, on your back, on your belly, and all over the poor blanket. Haechan reaches his hand out to get water from the picnic basket, thoughtfully giving it to you. After you are both done drinking, he does his best to clean you up and make sure you are...well, alive. Taking a deep breath, he lies down next to you, enveloping you in a warm and soft hug.

“Was that too much?” he wants to know and brushes a piece of hair behind your ear gently. You melt under his touch, just like always.

There he is. Your sunshine boyfriend is back.

“No, it was perfect. So much better than what we talked about previously,” you reply honestly.

“I wasn’t too mean to my baby, was I?” Haechan needs to make sure.

“Just the right amount of mean,” you laugh. “Did I play the innocent angel part well enough?”

“Too well,” Haechan praises your acting skills. “Maybe because you were my innocent best friend back when we first met.”

“And look where that got me,” you sigh. “Miles away from home, overflowing with cum, no one to save me. Such a tragic fate.”

“Oh, come on, don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Haechan rolls his eyes.

You lean in to kiss him softly.

“Loved every minute,” you admit. Then, you grab his chin firmly. “But next time, I’ll be the one corrupting you.”

The End

#nct #haechan #nct smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #nct imagines #haechan imagines #writing

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woniefull · 2 days

Text

I can’t be your love

you’re in love with jay

but does he feel the same?

you can’t quite figure that out

warnings/heads up: female character, beginning is a bit slow?? little angsty🎀, fluff, minimal curse words, small kisses here and there…I lowkey suck at building up chemistry/romance so please give tips thank you😞😞😞🙏🙏🙏

wc: idek but hella long that’s for sure

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

There he was.

You always lingered in the halls in hopes of getting even just a glimpse of him. His soft dark brown hair. Eyebrows that somehow looked better than yours. His cheesy little smile that seemed to never falter.

Park Jongseong. Or Jay for short. He was a junior, just like you. But he had this level of maturity that many boys around his age couldn’t reach even if they tried.

He was a gentleman. That’s what you liked about him. He was kind to everyone.

No wonder he had so many admirers.

“You’re going to get caught one day you know?”

You quickly turn around and meet the eyes of your best friend, Liz.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You’re pretty sure your face has turned completely red judging from the way Liz is giggling at you.

“You’re so obvious. I don’t know why you haven’t tried to strike up a conversation with him, you clearly like him.”

Liz has stopped giggling now and peaks behind your shoulder to get a glimpse of your little crush.

“Judging by the way things are looking right now I’d say you need to act fast.”

You quickly turn around to see what she was talking about.

The once lonely Jay now had a girl by his side. They were laughing about something. He was wearing that cheesy smile you loved. There was a burning feeling at the pit of your stomach.

“Oh.”

“Oh? Yeah I think you need a break, let’s go.”

Liz took you by the hand and walked you to your next class.

———————————Time Skip———————————

It was cooking class now. Usually you would be beaming knowing you shared this class with Jay, but the moment you witnessed earlier had given you a twisted feeling.

“Okay class today is the start of a new semester. Which means new cooking partners. I would like you guys to partner up with someone you don’t usually talk to, trust me I know who you guys talk to.”

Maybe I should try to partner up with Jay. It wouldn’t hurt to try right? They might be just friends too, I’m looking much too into it.

You quickly scan the room in hopes of spotting him. You do. But someone had beat you to it. It was that girl again. As you were about to turn and look for another partner the teacher speaks.

“Emma please find another partner. I know the two of you are friends”

The girl, or Emma as you’ve just found out, turns around to face the teacher with a pout.

“But Ms. Smith”

“No buts ma’am”

“Jay tell her something!”

You turn to Jay who now has an…embarrassed expression?

“Emma you’ll be fine. It’s not like the world will end if we’re not partners. We can still talk to each other outside of class.”

Emma huffs and turns to find another partner.

“If you say so. See you after class then.”

You see Jay begin to look around to see if anyone witnessed the humiliating incident. Before you can turn to look away he catches you staring at him.

You immediately turn away and pretend to read the cooking book placed on the table in front of you.

Hopefully he didn’t notice me staring.

You hear footsteps behind you and unconsciously squeeze the book tightly.

“Woah there, are you trying to rip the book into shreds?”

You look up. There he was. You’ve never been this close to him. His eyes are enchanting. You’re speechless.

“Are you okay?”

That snapped you out of your day dream real quick.

“Hi yes sorry.”

He chuckled at you while reaching for the book. Your hands gently brushed his as he took it away from you.

“The names Jay by the way and I’ll be taking this from you now, wouldn’t want you to have to pay anything for damaging school property.”

You laughed awkwardly and turned your entire body to face his.

“So y/n would you like to be partners?”

He knew my name? I don’t recall having any sort of conversation with him ever.

You studied his face a little closer. Were his eyes a little wider now and were his ears a little red? It must be your imagination.

“Oh uh, sure!”

“That’s great. I’ll go get our aprons.”

He walked away to the back of the classroom. You were a nervous wreck to the way the least. You had dreamed of a moment just like this, but you never thought it would happen.

I should take advantage of an opportunity like this.

Jay returned quickly and handed you your apron.

“Do you mind helping me tie it from the back and I’ll help you tie yours?”

Lifting your head up you saw Jay looking at you.

“Yeah, no problem.”

He turned and you caught sight of the freckles along his neck.

Cute.

You finished tying up his apron and turned to face the opposite direction.

“Okay I’m tying it now.”

His hands traced gently along your waist as he reached for both strings. You shivered unwillingly.

“I’m sorry did I do something wrong?”

“No you did nothing wrong it’s just…”

How could you explain to him that everything he did gave you butterflies?

“Never mind you keep on going it’s fine.”

“Okay just please let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

He was such a sweetheart.

Jay quickly finished tying the apron up and you both sat.

“I hope this isn’t too awkward for you.” Jay says while his head rests on his hand that’s propped up against the table.

“Why would it be awkward?”

Your words came out a little harsher than you meant.

“Well I saw that you witnessed that little incident earlier. I don’t want you thinking that you were a second option or anything.”

“But I was, wasn’t I? You only paired up with me because Emma couldn’t.”

“Wow you’re very straightforward aren’t you? And about Emma, she wanted to be partners with me not the other way around.”

Jay has this concerned look on his face. As if he wants you to understand him. To understand what he was saying.

“Well that doesn’t really matter to me so you’re good.”

“Uh that’s great then.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah…”

You have no idea why you acted the way you did just now but you regretted it. It was easy to tell that Jay was a bit hurt by your words. You were about to say something, but Jay beats you to it.

“Let’s make some apple pie then? The teacher said we could choose whatever pie we wanted to make.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

It was towards the end of class now and there was flour, sugar, apples, and so much more everywhere on the table. Not only the table, but your face too.

Jay and you had gotten past the tension from earlier and were now laughing and playing around.

“Oh you got something right…”

Jay reaches just under your lip and wipes some of the flour off.

“here.”

You blush and start cleaning up your area hoping that he didn’t notice. How was it so easy for him to do something like that?

As you both finished up cleaning the space around you a voice comes up behind you.

“Jay are you ready to go?”

It was Emma. You had to admit she was gorgeous. It was likely her and Jay were together, hopefully not.

“Oh uh…I’ll meet you guys later I need to talk to my cooking partner about something first.”

Emma took a quick glance at you and then back at Jay.

“Yeah sure…see you.”

She walked away and you looked at Jay with a questioning face wondering what he could possibly want to talk about. But first you had to ask the question that was nagging you.

“Girlfriend?”

“What?”

“I mean Emma.”

You internally slapped yourself. It was such a stupid question, of course they were dating.

“Emma? No never! I mean she’s pretty cool and all but we’re just close friends that’s all .”

“But she’s really pretty, you guys suit each other.”

“You’re right she is pretty.”

You should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“But-”

You cut him off before he can continue, not wanting to hear anything more about Emma and what he thinks of her.

“So what is that you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh yeah that. I heard you’re pretty good at English and I could really use your help. I was wondering if you could tutor me?”

So that’s how he knew your name. Was his plan to befriend you so that you wouldn’t say no to tutoring him? You won’t lie it hurt a little bit. But how could you say no to the man you were so hopelessly and devastatingly in love with?

“Um…sure no worries. What time works for you? I’m free every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after school.”

“You’re an angel sent from heaven thank you so much!”

Your heart just skipped a beat.

“Those times work for me. See you next week then?”

“Yeah see you next week.”

Jay winks at you and walks out.

Oh gosh this was a mistake.

———————————Time Skip———————————

“HELLO? Oh my gosh this is so crazy y/n what!”

Of course you had told Liz everything.

“I know but I’m still super worried Liz.”

Instead of what should have been a smile plastered on your face, was a frown.

“I just can’t help but feel that he wanted to get close to me just so he could easily get me as a tutor. And what’s worse? It worked.”

“Based on what you told me I’m pretty sure he really wants to be friends. You got to watch out for that Emma girl though.”

“I know but I don’t think we would grow into anything beyond that. Plus he said she was pretty.”

“And you’re breathtaking so what does that matter. Impress him! Captivate him. Lock him up if you have to.”

You start laughing at your friend. Liz always knew how to make you feel better.

“We’ll see.”

———————————Time Skip———————————

Knowing that today was the first day of tutoring with Jay, you decided to dress up nicely. A cute pink bow, jean skirt, and a white cashmere sweater. Simple.

Jay was already sitting in the study room you had reserved when you walked in.

His eyes flickered up and he took your appearance in.

“Never saw you as the type to wear skirts.”

How would he know what I wear? I thought he only knew of me just a couple days ago.

“I never knew you were the type to know what I wear on a daily basis.”

You were joking of course, trying to act casually around Jay in order to get closer to him.

But he seemed flustered.

“Well um…glad you could make it. Thanks again for doing this for me I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah no problem it’s not too much of a hassle for me, this is perfect for my extracurriculars list anyways.”

Jay quickly sits up right.

“Oh yeah I heard you have big plans for college. I’m really smart too you know? It’s just English is my only weakness. And also-”

You laugh at him as he tries to quickly string his words together. You already knew how smart he was, of course you did.

“Jay you don’t need to tell me any of this you know that right? I’m not judging you or anything. Unless you see me as some sort of competition or something?”

Jay smiles.

“No yeah I guess I just had the urge to I don’t know…impress you?”

“Why would you need to impress me?”

“I don’t know.”

You both stare at each other.

“Well you’ve left a pretty good impression on me so far, so don’t worry too much okay?”

Wow you’ve gotten bold out of no where.

He chuckles.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

“Okay then let’s get started.”

You turn to the books you placed on the table and open one up.

“So let’s start with the basics. What have you been struggling on?”

Jay leans his body closer to you making you once again, shiver. His effect on you drove you crazy.

“Sorry am I too close?”

There was no way you’d give him even a hint of your liking towards him.

“No you’re fine. I guess it was a bad day to wear a skirt, it’s a bit chilly in here.”

You tried to laugh the situation off.

“Here take this.”

Your heart skipped a couple beats as he draped his jacket over your legs. You could feel your cheeks flushing red.

“Oh uh thank you!”

“No problem.”

His smile oh lorddddddd.

“Well let’s continue.”

End of tutoring session

“Thanks so much y/n I feel like I’m improving already.”

“Don’t flatter me too much.”

The both of you laugh.

You reach for his jacket but he stops you and instead grabs the jacket to place it over your shoulders.

“You should take it, it’s pretty windy out there and I heard it’s supposed to rain soon.”

This man. He was going to be the death of you.

“But then you won’t have anything to wear! I’ll be fine don’t worry it’s not that far of a walk to the bus stop anyway.”

He starts to collect his things.

“I live nearby so I’ll be okay. But you should hurry to the bus stop before it starts pouring. Wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

He’s so caring it hurts. Was he like this towards others? Other girls? Emma?

“Okay see you tomorrow for cooking class then?”

“See you.”

———————————Time Skip———————————

You walk into school, earlier than usual. In your hand was Jay’s jacket, you were eager to find him and give it to him. Or maybe eager just to talk to him. This new formed friendship was now something you cherished deeply.

As you walked through the hallways and turned on a sharp corner you accidentally bump into someone. Their phone goes flying in the air.

Emma.

Just your luck.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there!”

You’re first to apologize, it was the polite thing to do since it was your fault.

“No worries, I should’ve watched where I was going too but I was busy looking at my phone.”

The phone was still laying on the floor, screen side up, so you reached down for it.

It wasn’t your intention to snoop but the name on the screen caught your attention.

She was texting Jay.

You only got to read the name before quickly handing it back to her.

There was a moment of awkward silence as you both just stood there.

Emma took notice of the jacket you had in your arms.

“Is that Jay’s jacket?”

Trying to maintain eye contact with her, you speak.

“Yeah, he let me borrow it yesterday and I was hoping to return it.”

“How sweet! He’s always lending out his sweaters, it’s a habit of his. Whenever I leave my sweaters at home he always gives his up.”

Oh.

It was pretty stupid to think you were any more special than Emma, he knew her longer and she knew him longer too. They had a stronger bond than the two day old one you both had.

Emma took your silence as a sign to speak again.

“I can give it back to him if you’d like? I have first period with him.”

You look up at her and she has this beautiful smile. She’s similar to Jay in many ways. They’d look lovely together.

“Would you do that for me? Thanks.”

Your voice trembled a bit as you handed the jacket over to her.

Don’t cry. This isn’t something to cry over. You’re not even close with him.

“Well see you around…what was your name?”

“Y/n.”

“My names Emma! See you around y/n!”

At the moment it didn’t irk you that Jay could possibly have feelings for Emma. What irked you is that you couldn’t hate nor dislike her. She was kind and genuine towards you. There were no ill intentions behind her words.

Sighing, you turned around to head towards your locker.

“Good morning darling how was tutoring yesterday?”

At least there was Liz. She was always there for you.

“It was okay.”

“Oh wow. Okay. What’s got you in a twist? I thought you would be bursting with happiness after having some alone time with your crush.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Hmm I know you’re lying but I won’t pry anything out of you now. Tell me when you’re ready.”

“This is why I love you.”

“I know it is. Now come one let’s go, I heard they’re serving waffles in the cafeteria today!”

———————————Time Skip———————————

It was now cooking class. For this first time ever, you were dreading having to face Jay. There was this small ball of anger in you, jealousy. You didn’t know how to handle it.

Maybe I should tell the teacher I don’t feel well.

Before you could act on your thoughts, a familiar voice reaches your ears.

“Hey y/n! How you been?”

Jay starts to settle his things down next to you.

Why is it so difficult to try and have a conversation with him right now?

Probably because you know he just walked in with Emma.

This jealousy thing was really frustrating you.

“We saw each other not even less than 24 hours ago. You’re making it seem like it’s been over a year.”

He shifts his head to look at you.

“Yeah uh just trying to make conversation. You know?”

“Mhm.”

You hoped your attitude didn’t hurt him too much. But you felt hurt too.

“I saw that you gave Emma my jacket.”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t want to see me huh? Is that why you gave it to her?”

He chuckled. He was joking, but you weren’t in the mood for it.

“No.”

Silence.

“Sorry I’m not feeling well today. I think I might go to the nurses office.”

Before he could get a word out you walk up to the front of the class and explain to the teacher about your “illness”. After being given your teachers approval you make your way to the nurses office.

Mindlessly forgetting your things, just needing an escape.

End of class.

Class is now over and you’re still laying down on one of the beds with the curtains closed.

You slept for the first thirty minutes of your stay but now you can’t stop thinking about Jay.

How there was a hint of sadness in his eyes as you walked away from him. Or was it worry? Hard to tell. You clearly don’t know him at all.

But no matter how hard you tried to stop thinking of him, he always wandered back into your mind.

“Jay…”

A sudden noise erupts from behind the curtains.

“Awe man!”

You stand up quickly.

“Hello?”

You slide the curtain open and to your surprise Jay is on the floor with…strawberry milk?

“Thought I could surprise you but I guess you knew I was here already. How did you know? I thought I was being sneaky…”

That’s good. He doesn’t know you were being a complete lunatic who can’t seem to stop thinking of him.

“Oh trust me, you surprised me alright.”

You can’t help but laugh at the sight in front of you.

Jay looks like an absolute clutz.

“That’s nice.”

You stop laughing and raise an eyebrow.

“What is?”

“Seeing you happy.”

You blush.

“Sorry about earlier. I was being a bitch.”

“No you weren’t. Don’t call yourself that.”

He always knew what words would give you butterflies.

“Well I was being a bit rude.”

Your hand reaches out for his, he takes it.

“We all have our bad days.”

He’s up now. But neither of you let go. You don’t want to let go. Does he? He might think you’re weird if you don’t let go of his hand soon.

Swiftly, you retract your hand from his bringing it to your side.

His face now has a tint of pink realizing what just happened.

“I bought you this.”

He sticks out his hand which has the strawberry milk you saw earlier.

“Thanks I love strawberry milk!”

“Yeah Emma told me all girls love anything strawberry.”

Oh.

You try to conceal the jealousy you had forgotten you felt to begin with.

“Emma’s a genius.”

“She is.”

You look down to open up the milk in order to hide the hurt on your face.

“But you are too.”

Huh?

“Thank you?”

Jay stares at you as you struggle to open the carton of milk. He grabs it from you and continues to open it as he speaks.

“I have something important to tell you and I understand if you get weirded out and don’t want to be friends anymore. But it’s just something I need to get off my chest.”

What could it be?

“Go ahead.”

He takes a deep breath and hands the milk back to you. His hand now starts to scratch the back of his neck.

“So I know we’ve only know each other for a couple days but I was hoping to get to know you better.”

“Know me better?”

Was this a dream?

“Yeah, in a romantic way I guess? I don’t know. I don’t really know how to explain it. But I understand if your answer is no. It’s just that I kind of like you and-”

His words are cut short when you hug him.

“I hope this is okay.”

You say, hoping for some reassurance.

“I’m just so happy right now.”

“This is more than okay. It’s great. It’s amazing.”

Jay’s hugging you back now.

The both of you stay like that for a while. Until the nurse finds the two of you and sends you guys to the principle’s office for skipping class in order to date.

Being sent to the principle’s office should have made you upset. But as you walked side by side with Jay, nothing could make you happier.

4 months later

You guessed it. Jay and you had ended up together. Turns out your suspicions of him and Emma were wrong, and they were really just close friends. Also, let’s just say she seemed to take interest into Liz a lot more than she did Jay.

Throughout your so far two month relationship you discovered two important things.

1. Jay absolutely loved smothering you in kisses and hugging you from behind while slithering his hands across your waist. He loved pinching your stomach and hearing your voice telling him to stop.

2. You were a clingy girlfriend. Not in a bad way. You didn’t have to be with him every minute of the day. But you took advantage of any moment you had with him, immediately hugging him the moment your eyes set on him. Goodbyes were always hard, even if you were seeing him the next morning.

Jay didn’t mind though. This was one of the many things he loved about you.

“Graduation is coming up soon.”

Jay and you are at the park right now eating ice cream. Summer is coming up soon so the weather is starting to warm up.

“I know, time flies.”

You respond to him. Happily licking away at your ice cream and enjoying the view of the pond in front of you as the sun sets.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be seniors soon.”

Jay still can’t grasp the idea of this being his last high school year.

“College is soon.”

“I never did ask what you wanted to do after high school.”

“I never asked you either.”

“So?”

“Y/n…”

You laugh at him and reach for his hand.

“I hope to be a doctor.”

“That’s awesome. You can do it.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

He squeezes your hand in order to offer some sort of comfort. It works.

“How about you? What do you want to do Jay?”

“I’m boring and simple. I’d like to be a mechanical engineer just like my dad.”

“You’re anything but boring and simple Jay.”

He smiles and leans in to kiss you.

His lips are soft and gentle. You guys have kissed hundreds of times but he always makes it seem like it’s your first.

As he pulls away he brushes some of your hair away from your face. His next words leave you in absolute shock.

“I think I love you.”

Your eyes are wide and your mouth is left agape.

“No, I know that I love you. I understand if it’s too soon and there is no need to give me a response anywhere near the future, but I thought I should let you know.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you love me?”

Your questions were cliche. You knew that. But you needed to know why. This all felt so surreal. Too good to be true.

“Because you’re you. Because of the way you laugh at my unfunny jokes no matter what. Because of the way you smile even at the smallest things. Because of the way you don’t let anyone disrespect you no matter what. And most of all, because of the way you’re the only one that can make my heart skip a beat, make my ears red, and give me butterflies. My heart beats for you and only for you.”

Woah.

You never knew someone could ever feel like this towards you. You were absolutely star struck. But you had an answer already. You always had it deep within you.

“I love you too Jay.”

He smiled.

“Thank God. I was hoping you would say that.”

With that, you both shared another kiss. This one was longer, deeper, and more passionate. It was as if time had stopped. As if the world had stopped. It was just the two of you.

You wished this moment would last forever.

———————————Time Skip———————————

It’s the beginning of senior year now. Jay and you had a plan. Apply to the same colleges which had both of your majors. Go to school together. Graduate, get married, all of that. Two dumb love birds hopelessly devoted to each other.

You both had similar grades and qualifications so you weren’t too worried about getting in or not getting into the same colleges.

It didn’t matter to you though, you would follow Jay wherever he went. You would strive in any pre med program anyways. It wasn’t a bother, as long as you were with Jay. The love of your life.

“I can’t believe it’s our senior year Jay! This is so exciting!”

“I know love, but let’s start getting ready for those applications okay? You know how quickly time passes by.”

“Ofcourse I do. Want to come over after school? We can come with ideas together for or piqs.”

“That sounds great. See you after class?”

“See you!”

7 months later

It was now time. Colleges were sending out their letters.

You had to admit. This was nerve wrecking. It would be absolutely devastating if you didn’t get in to any of your dream schools. Of course John Hopkins and Stanford being at the top.

But the fear of not going to school with Jay had also crossed your mind a couple of times. It’s not like you would die if you didn’t go to the same school, but you loved growing as a person with him and watching him grow too.

The both of you received acceptance letters from various schools but all of them weren’t any of you two’s top choices. Jay’s top choices were MIT and Stanford. Stanford seemed to be the target at the moment. You had applied to Amherst too, just in case Jay had to go to MIT instead of Stanford. It wasn’t your top choice but it wasn’t a bad one either. Luckily you had gotten in!

“Y/n sweetie your father says the mail man delivered some letters! It two of them seem to be from Stanford and John Hopkins!”

Your mom yells from downstairs.

This is really happening.

You quickly rush down stairs and see the letters there in the middle of the table.

“Deep breaths sweet girl. Just know we’re here supporting you no matter what those letters say. You’re still an amazing and intelligent lady.”

Your dad says as he rubs your shoulders.

You smile nervously and reach for the John Hopkins letter first.

Waitlisted.

“It’s okay honey, that’s still such a great accomplishment.”

Tears are threatening to spill out of your eyes. But you have to look strong. You still have one more letter to look at. The one that matters most to you right now.

You reach out to open it and once you start to read what’s inside of it you can’t help the tears from coming out.

Congratulations y/n we are happy to admit you to the Class of 2028!

“Mom! Dad! I’m in! I’m actually in!”

Your parents hug you and take you out to eat in order to celebrate.

Hours later.

As you head to your room after dinner you text Jay.

You: Jay can we call really quick?

Jay: Well hello to you too princess.

You: Haha very funny. Now please can we call?

Jay: Anything for my girl😋

“Hello?”

“Hi princess.”

“How much longer until you stop calling me that?”

“Never.”

“Okay whatever.”

“You got in didn’t you?”

“What? How did you know? Did my parents tell you? I wanted to surprise you!”

“I know you too well, that’s how I knew. Congratulations y/n. You have absolutely no idea how incredibly proud of you I am.”

“Thanks Jay! How about you? Did you get your letter yet? You got in didn’t you?”

Jay clears his throat and for a moment you start to get worried.

“Jay…?”

“Of course I got in princess.”

“Oh my gosh this is amazing. I can’t believe I’m going to college with my boyfriend!”

“Okay y/n it’s been a long day so you should probably head to sleep now sleeping beauty.”

“You can be an annoying shithead sometimes you know that right?”

“I’m your annoying shithead.”

You laugh.

“You’re right. Love you lots Jay. Goodnight.”

“Love you more princess. Goodnight.”

———————————Time Skip———————————

“Hi Liz how’s Boston?”

Yup! Liz got into Boston University! It’s towards the end of summer now and she’s meeting some of her dormates before she officially moves in at the start of the semester.

“It’s great over here! I’m living for this weather. I wish you were here with me right now, I need my best friend during times like these.”

“You’ll be fine, you can make friends anywhere you go.”

“But it won’t be the same without you.”

“I could say the same thing.”

“So…how are things with you and Jay?”

“Everything is going great. But I have noticed something different about him.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Well he’s been acting a lot more clingy lately. Way more than I usually am. And I thought I was supposed to be the clingy girl friend!”

“Hm yeah, I wouldn’t look too much into it he’s probably thinking guys will try to snatch you up in college.”

“Never!”

You both start to laugh and quickly say your goodbyes as Liz had to go out for lunch with her new found friends.

Coincidentally it’s student orientation day for you so you call up Jay.

It rings.

And rings.

Strange.

Jay’s house is only a ten minute bus ride so you decide to go check up on him.

You arrive at his house and knock on his door.

His mom steps out. She usually has a gleeful smile just like Jay’s, but this time her smile is no where to be seen.

“Hi ma’am how have you been? Is Jay around? I tried to call him but he wouldn’t answer so I just came to check up on him!”

Mrs. Park stares at you with saddened eyes and then hugs you.

“I’m so sorry my sweet girl. I’m so so sorry. Just know he did it for a reason okay? He did it for your own good.”

You’re shocked by this. What does she mean? For your own good?

“Excuse Mrs. Park but I’m a little confused. What do you mean? Where’s Jay?”

Mrs. Park rushes inside and quickly comes back out. This time with a letter.

“Take this and read it at home okay? It’s best if you do it in your room alone.”

And with that she gives you one last hug before shutting the door.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Was that.

You’re going through so many emotions right now. As you take the bus home you have the letter in one hand and your phone in the other. You continue to attempt to call Jay in order to get some sort of answer from him.

You make it home and enter your room. Sitting down on your bed you wast no time in opening the letter. Your eyes settle on the first line.

Dear y/n,

Hi princess I know you must be worried right now. Just know that I am physically okay. At first, I wanted to do this in person but I just couldn’t find the strength to do it. I know I’m a coward. I know this will hurt you just as much as it hurts me. But I’m doing this for you. Because I love you. In no way am I blaming you for anything. I want apologize for what I’m about to say next.

I won’t be going to college with you. We can’t spend the next four years together. I’m so incredibly proud of all your accomplishments. I know it’s been one of your biggest dreams to attend Stanford. Which is why I couldn’t let you come to Massachusetts with me. I know the plan was to be together, but your dreams should always come before me. I don’t want to stop you from reaching your full potential. Long distance relationships are a thing yes. But I feel that with our relationship we will only hold each other back. We will never want to reach out for more, in fear of leaving the other behind. I hope that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I hope that we can find our way back to each other. I will always love you. Every season with you has been a blessing. For now I’ll pray for you all the time.

For now I can’t be your love.

I love you,

Jay

You start to uncontrollably sob.

“Jay you asshole. How would you know anything about my dreams?”

Your throat was itching.

“You were my dream. My dream was to spend my life with you.”

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

Heartbroken.

•••••••••••••••••••JAY’S POV••••••••••••••••••••

I loved her since the day I saw her at the library.

It was sophomore year.

Finals week.

I was looking for some books to prepare for the English final and there she was.

Studying? No.

She was tutoring someone else.

I was amazed. She had to be the smartest at this school. Finals week and here she was helping someone else out.

She was beautiful too. Her dimples and cheeky smile captured me in an instant.

I made it my mission to look for her every time I was at the library.

Luckily she was always there.

I never got too close. Afraid that I would scare her away.

Emma always said I was paranoid and that I should go for it before someone else did.

I never had the courage to, until my junior year.

She was looking at me. Actually looking at me.

She turned away immediately after I caught her but I knew this was my chance to get to know her.

As I walked up to her desk in cooking class I took notice of her hands clutching onto the book in front of her.

Cute.

From there we got closer.

I could never get tired of her.

My hands always found their way to her waist or her face. I loved caressing her and covering her with kisses. It was just my way of showing my love for her.

I loved this girl.

I loved her so much that I was willing to let her go even if it hurt me so very much.

When I got that rejection letter from Stanford I was heartbroken. Not only because it was my dream school but because it was our dream school.

I knew if I told her that I was rejected she would want to go to Amherst. But I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t stop her from chasing the thing she had wanted for so long.

So I wrote her a letter. It was the only way I could clearly express myself.

Even though I made the heartbreaking decision of leaving without saying a proper goodbye I don’t regret it.

I don’t think I could ever leave her if I had to face her one last time.

I thought leaving without a goodbye would be the hardest part but the messages and calls she would leave me for the next few weeks absolutely broke me. I had to fight so hard to not respond.

I’m sorry princess.

I can’t be your love because I’m afraid I’ll ruin your life.

5 years later.

I’m home again. I haven’t told anyone. Not even my parents. I want to take everything in.

Not much has changed. Hasn’t been that long since I left anyways.

But I guess I have.

I’ve grown a bit taller, new hair, and looked a lot cleaner than I did back then.

I walk down the streets of San Francisco and pass by a coffee shop.

It’s a coffee shop she and I regularly had dates at.

I walk in. The bell chimes as it opens up and a couple heads turn to see who the newcomer is, and then they all quickly turn back to what ever they were doing before.

I walk up to the cashier ready to order when I hear a familiar name.

“Order for y/n!”

I turn to the voice.

There she is.

It feels like I’m at the library again.

She’s become even more breathtaking.

Is that even possible?

There’s so much going through my head but it’s as if my legs have a mind of their own because before I know it I’m in front of her.

Admiring her face.

I’m the first to speak.

“Hi.”

Her breath hitches before she starts to talk to me.

“Jay…hi.”

I can’t believe this. I mean, I should’ve expected it. She never did leave the area.

“How have you been, time has-”

Before I can finish a voice calls out to her.

“Y/n there you are!”

A man runs up to her and slides his hand into hers while giving her a soft peck on the forehead.

Oh.

83 notes · View notes

rileyglas · 2 days

Text

The List ~Pt. 5 - Confrontation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: While out for a walk, you run into everyone’s ‘favorite’ Overlord, resulting in a brutal altercation. Recognizing the danger you put yourself in, Alastor is all too willing to offer another deal.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, Valentino so yeah, mentions of blood and bodily harm, eventual smut (it will return), actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+ MDNI

3.7k Words

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five (You're on it!) Part Six Part Seven

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

When you asked Alastor to prove himself to you, you half expected him to just continue ignoring you around the hotel. He seemed like the type to keep any personal interaction behind closed doors. Keeping some privacy isn’t a bad thing. Before the deal, he stuck to doing his job around the hotel, helping Charlie with whatever new idea or ask she had, and broadcasting his evening radio show. Every so often he might have a drink at the bar, making small talk with Husk and Nifty, otherwise he kept to himself in the shadows.

These last few weeks were slightly different. If he grabbed a coffee, he also poured one for you (always using one of his mugs). He made a point of being at every group activity, standing practically on top of you with a hand on the small of your back. He often offered to accompany you into town if you were going for a walk. “I just enjoy your company dear” he would reason. You’re far from complaining, however, the other residents were starting to notice.

“Alright what’s the deal?” Husk thumps your drink on the bar, his aggressive tone catching you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Al – what the fuck is going on there? I thought you had more common sense than associating yourself with his sorts.”

Fuckin ouch.

“I have plenty of sense Husker,” you hissed with irritation at what he was insinuating. Vaggie and Angel silently take their seats next to you, feeling the tension of the conversation. “– and if you must know we discovered we have more in common than we thought. You of all people should know keeping someone of his sorts on good terms is wise. Thank you for your concern though.” You throw back your drink, slamming the empty glass into the bar as you stand up.

Husk tries to smooth over your venom, “Listen kid, you’re still pretty new to Hell…I’m just –“

“Thank you again Husk! Talking with you is always a pleasure.” You cut him off, putting on your jacket and walking towards the hotel doors.

Footsteps trail behind you - followed by a hand on your shoulder, “Hey doll, don’t be too upset with him. We all just….we worry is all. Smiles is still Mr. Mystery pants. Charlie seems to be the only one not worried about his intentions.” Angel offers you a cautious grin. His smile always seems to brighten your mood.

You place your hand on top of his, “Thank you hun. I’m not mad and I understand everyone’s… apprehension…. But I need you guys to trust that I know what I’m doing. You all have enough to worry about around here.” R̵͚̀ŭ̴͓l̷̥̓ȩ̷͒ ̷̢́#̵̧͌3̶̫̈́ ̴̬̾N̶̬͊e̷͇͂v̵̞̚ę̴̿ŕ̵̖ ̵̟̈́ḅ̶͂r̷̤̔í̸͜n̴̳͌g̴̫͐ ̶̢͠a̸̳͝n̶͕̐y̴̓ͅo̸͎̐n̷̚͜ȩ̷̇ ̸̪̑ẗ̶͈́ő̴͜o̷̺̊ ̵̛̬c̴̘̀ľ̴̹o̶͇͗s̸̠̾e̴͇͝

Needing some time to yourself, you decide to take a stroll through Pentagram City. The streets could be dangerous when traveling alone, but Carmilla was kind enough to let you leave with some…equipment. Like a nervous tick, you palm the carmine knife sheathed on your waist. You always hope there isn’t a need to use it but can never be too careful.

Heaven’s embassy clock ticked down, showing less than 100 days until the next extermination. You sigh at the thought, taking notes as you walk. Every year you mapped out places you would be needed most, where you could hide sinners, alleys you could use to corner or escape the Exorcists. Maybe Alastor could help me this time? He did say together we would be more powerful.

Lost in your plans, you don’t realize you’ve started pacing the streets of the V’s territory. It isn’t until you hear someone yelling down an alley that you become aware of your surroundings.

“Listen here, you little fuck – you’re our lowest earner this month and I’m in a bad mood so…” a large demon pins a rabbit-like sinner to the alley wall, pulling a pink and white gun from his hip. “I figured you could help me BLOW off some steam. Now, now, baby - hold still for me and don’t make too much of a mess hmm?”

You look closer and recognize the tall moth demon.

Fucking Valentino.

You see red and make your way down the alley. Hearing your footsteps he turns but not before you blindside him, body slamming him to the ground. The sound of metal echoes as his gun slides across the pavement. The poor sinner runs off without a word. You’re welcome, I guess. You bend over the disoriented Valentino.

“Tough luck being out here today Val – Coincidentally I’m also in a bad mood so let’s have a chat.”

With a gust of his wings Val pushes himself off the ground and towers over you. “Ohhhhh aren’t you CUTE. Ya know people would pay good money to see a spicy chiquita like you fucked into her place, however that little stunt just sealed a different fate for you.” Smoke floods around you, wrapping tightly around your body. Your feet leave the ground as he pulls you close enough to run his tongue across your cheek. “Hmmm…tasty. Maybe I shouldn’t kill you. I could do quite a bit with this body of yours.”

A cynical laugh erupts from your chest. “Oh please – set me down. Save us both the embarrassment.” He cocks an eyebrow at your demand and tightens his smoke’s grip.

Feeling the crack of your ribs almost knocks all the air out of your lungs, but your rage is stronger than any pain. I’ve watched him hurt Angel one too many times.

“Wrong answer Val.” You concentrate your power, hands aglow as they conjure tiny, razor-sharp needles. With a swift flick of your wrists, they pierce and slice through Val's wings. “Cool thing about needles, they can help pull you together or tear...you…apart.” He howls from the pain, loosening his grip on you. With a little more room to move, you pull yourself back and headbutt him with so much force his glasses shatter. The blow makes his smoke disappear and you drop back to the ground. Time for some fun.

Unable to see clearly - Val frantically feels around for his gun. Pathetic. Crushing his hand with one foot, you use the other to deliver a full force kick to his chin, sending his gold tooth down the alley. “You little BITCH! Who the fuck do you think you are!?” he growls as blood pours from his mouth. You climb on top of him, pinning him down with a knee slowly crushing his dick. Screams of pure agony echo off the surrounding walls.

You grab his face with one hand and pull the knife from your waist, digging the point into Val’s cheek, “You lay your hands on any of your employees again, I’ll make sure this knife gets buried into your chest. Now be a good boy and let me decorate that pretty little face.” You turn his head and hastily carve “spurc” into his cheek. He cries out with each attempt to move, feeling your knee dig deeper into him. “Shhhh you can take it baby, come on, we’re almost done. That’s what you tell them, right? NOW HOLD STILL.” Mocking his pain you turn his head the other way, slicing “issime” into his other cheek. Blood pours from his face, staining your hands and wrists. “Spurcissime – complete filth. Quite fitting I think.”

You stand up to admire your work and release the demon writhing on the ground. Time to go. Turning to leave, you hear Val call out to someone. What is he crying about now? Without warning you’re hurled against the brick wall - your head taking the worst of the impact. As you struggle to pull your body off the ground, a large, blue claw wraps around your neck to pick you up. Between the blow to your head and your now rapidly declining oxygen, your strength dwindles.

“Are you fucking kidding me Val –You got your ass beat by Carmilla Carmine’s secretary!?”

How the fuck does he remember me?

“No she’s not –“ Val tries to warn but is ultimately ignored.

“It’s okay sweetheart. She can replace you. Sucks though. I always enjoyed staring at that ass. Made the meetings less insufferable.” Vox’s grip tightens around your neck and his other hand slides up your thigh, starting to grope every inch of you. Your vision begins to tunnel as your body goes limp, his grasp controlled and unforgiving.

Just before complete darkness takes over, a familiar voice booms in your ears, “ENOUGH!” The hand around your neck releases and the world around you spins, fading out then back in. You pull yourself to your hands and knees and try to gasp. A stabbing pain rips across your sides with every attempt to collect the air around you. Any adrenaline your body had was long gone now. Oh yeah, cracked ribs. Ouch.

Looking up you realize you’re in Alastor’s room. Any other day you would have inhaled the soft musk filling the air, but right now you can barely take a breath. “Alastor?” you whimper, throat hoarse from being nearly crushed. “Hello? Alastor?” Still silence. You lay back on the floor to try to steady your breathing and wait for the Radio Demon to make an appearance.

It only takes a few minutes to see his shadow appear, followed by Alastor himself. The initial relief you feel is quickly replaced by concern. His jacket was ripped up, and blood trailed across his mouth. “Shit are you okay? What happened?” you try to move to him but double over.

He huffs wiping the blood from his face. “No, you don’t get to ask the questions right now.” His words were near inaudible over the static. He was livid. “I want to know what the FUCK you were doing out in V territory ALONE!?” He rather unkindly picks you up, prompting throaty cries of pain and protest.

Alastor brings you to the bathroom and sits you up on the counter while he digs through his medical kit. You finally gather enough breath to speak, “Last I checked, I don’t need permission to walk around the city. Have you forgotten who I am? I am not some stupid -”

“Well apparently you are.” He bites at you without making eye contact – continuing to pull apart the kit.

Tears well up in your eyes. Too tired to fight them back you let their warmth coat your face. They steadily stream down and drop into your blood-soaked hands. You try to squeak out an explanation, “He…he just hurts so many people. He almost killed Angel. If you ask – “

“I didn’t.” he cuts in.

“I didn’t know he would get Vox in –“

“I don’t care.”

“FUCK Alastor what is your problem!?” you snap, tears burning as they run down your cheeks.

He slams his hands on either side of your legs, caging in your body and leaning right down to your face. If he wasn’t pissed right now, this would be so attractive.

“My problem? What is my problem?” Alastor’s antlers expand and a red ‘x’ glows on his forehead. His body grows and looms over you as his grip starts to crack the countertop, “Do you forget who they are? Of course Vox got involved! And if I hadn’t stepped in, he would have done who knows what to you! His hands already started to defile you - Is that what you wanted? To die at the hand of a perverted, unscrupulous Overlord?” His words were like knives, and you despised every slice he made.

His outburst ignites your own rage, making your demon form flare, “No, Damnit, you don’t get it! Down here you’ve only ever lived for yourself! You’ve never watched someone you care about almost die because of some piece of shit! You’ve never felt the need to tear that person limb from limb for what they did! I wanted to make him suffer and I DID!“ you scream at him until your voice gives out and your body gives up. A deafening silence falls over the bathroom. The only sounds reverberating off the walls are your stifled sobs. Some from anger, some from pain. Ṟ̸̂u̸̫͂l̴̟̈e̷̩͛ ̸͖̽#̷̹̀4̴̎͜ ̴̰̇Ṉ̷̀e̸̲͌v̴̻̈́e̵̥͘ṛ̸͛ ̵̗̑l̴͍̃ė̶̠t̶͈̾ ̴̣̒y̷̬͋ò̵̭u̸̩̽ŕ̶̼ ̴̪̾ẉ̵̑ȅ̴̩ą̴̕k̵̗̐n̶̻̅ȇ̷̳s̸̢͋s̸͖͂e̷̡͛s̶̘̍ ̴͍̏š̴̢h̶̼̐ǫ̴͊w̷͉͝

Alastor shrinks back to normal. He cups your face gently to clean off the dirt and blood – tending to the few scrapes across your cheeks. You keep your eyes down to avoid his stare. The last thing you want to see is pity from the demon, at least not right now.

As he kneels to clean your hands, his buttery voice finally breaks the quiet, “You know, had you said all of that yesterday, you would have been absolutely right.” He looks up, noticing your head tilt in confusion. “Seeing his hands on you triggered something in me, and I wanted nothing more than to rip apart that piece of shit for….trying to take you away from me. So yes, I do understand. But that doesn’t mean I’m still not cross with you for going by yourself. You’re lucky I had my shadow follow you.” A sly smile flashes up at you. In that moment a gnawing thought crosses your mind. Does he actually care for me? Or is he only afraid to lose the power I can give him?

Either way, he did save you, so you conjure enough strength in your voice to whisper, “Thank you Alastor,” and place a kiss on his forehead.

Once he finishes cleaning the cuts on your hands, he stands and hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His red eyes dart back and forth between yours as if trying to read every thought you could have. A smile paints his face but you can see something more. Worry? Sadness? Regret? You want to question him but the intensity of his stare has you frozen.

“I want to make another deal.” he finally says in a whisper, holding his gaze. Your stomach drops. This is what you’ve been worried about. That he was going to try to break down your walls until you willingly promise him your soul, bounding everything you have to him. R̴̤͑u̵͓̒l̷͊ͅḛ̸̒ ̸̉͜#̴͉̓1̶͇̔ ̸̟͑Ṋ̸͋e̷̮̎v̷̼̾e̸̪͌r̴̥̈́ ̵̳̽t̴̩͐r̶̻͊u̷̘͝ș̴͒t̶͙̂ ̶̝͑â̵̩n̴̙̿o̸̡͗t̸͚̒h̴̯̓ë̸͓́r̶͎̂ ̸̙̎O̸̺͌v̷̧͠è̴̼r̸̹̓l̵͊ͅo̸̜͒r̵̠̂d̸͓̽ .

“Wh-what?”

“I want to make another deal - you promise to let me accompany you every time you leave these hotel walls and, in exchange, I will teach you how to grow your strength and power so this never happens again.” Well that is not the deal I was expecting.

Relief replaces anxiety. You lean in and give a cheeky smile, “You do realize both of those things can happen without a deal - unless you’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me again.”

“Bold of you to assume I need an excuse, “ he purred, closing the last bit of space between your bodies, lips hovering over yours, ‘but do we have a deal?”

You can barely breathe out “Deal.” before his lips gently press into yours. A glow fills the room but you don’t even notice this time, too lost in his touch to care.

He reluctantly pulls away, “You should probably stay here tonight. I don’t think it’s wise for you to be alone in this condition.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I got it –“ hopping off the counter, you almost crumple to your knees. Alastor catches you with a smug chuckle. “I had a feeling you would fight me on that. It is completely up to you of course. However I will warn you I am willing to go to extreme lengths to convince you of the right choice.”

Once again, you’re lifted up and out of the bathroom. “Don’t threaten me with a good time -” You try to tease but lose your breath. A low laugh leaves his chest, “I believe we’ve had enough fun today my dear.” Every muscle in your body welcomes the soft bed as he lays you down on his silk sheets.

Your eyes flutter heavily as you hear him move about the room, leaving briefly. Am I really going to stay here with him? Guess not too much of a choice now. I know he won’t hurt me, not tonight anyway. The door opens and you feel him climb into the bed with you.

Turning to face him, you watch him lean back against the headboard, book in hand. “I thought you didn’t sleep.” you joke drowsily.

“I don't need much but that just means I can keep you company while you rest.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to…but maybe you could tell me some stories about when you were alive? You can be my personal radio show for the night.”

A pleased hum leaves his chest, “As you wish, ma chère.” He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. Time might as well have stopped as he begins telling you about his life, his mom, his home, the old radio show. You practically melt into his chest while drinking in every drop of his sweet voice. It was nice to peel back a few layers of who the Radio Demon was.

You wake up in a panic the next morning. Sitting up, your tired brain takes a moment to catch up with your surroundings and you relax remembering the previous night’s events. The mirror across the room catches your eye, showing purple and blue bruises painted across your skin. “Uhhg I look rough.” you whisper to yourself.

“Still beautiful as ever, my dear.” a voice cut in, making your heart jump into your throat. You didn’t even notice his shadow or him fading into the room while you tried to collect yourself. “Good morning Alastor, and thank you but these marks are not very flattering.”

He sits on the edge of the bed and lightly traces his hand around your face and throat. His smile almost falters. “I loathe seeing the marks he’s left on you…but I take pride in knowing he won’t ever lay a hand on you again.” a snide grin crosses his face. That’s probably why he took so long to get back to the hotel. I don’t even want to know what he did to Vox in that alley.

“Now! You stay here, I will go grab us some coffee!” Alastor jumps up to rush out the door but you stop him. “No, wait – I want to come with you.” He nods and leans against the doorway, waiting for you to put yourself together. You only bother to run a comb through your hair. No use in trying to cover up anything.

He wraps his arm around your waist while walking down to the lobby. Plopping yourself on the couch, you look up to see Husk staring over a newspaper, eyebrow cocked. A gruff “Hmpf” comes from behind the paper as Alastor walks by into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, “Don’t even start Husk.”

He slams the paper down on the bar, “I ain’t startin nothin! But it sure looks like he tried to finish –“ “He didn’t touch me. I wouldn’t even be sitting here if it wasn’t for him – “

Angel bursts through the hotel doors roaring with excitement, abruptly ending your conversation with Husk. “Oh good you guys are here – you will not BELIEVE what happened last night and holy shit what happened to you!?“

He looks mortified at the marks across your face. “Tripped. Please continue.” you say dryly.

Alastor finally returns with coffee, taking his seat right next to you as Angel finishes talking about his shift and how bad of a condition Val was in.

“It’s crazy someone was powerful enough…or ballsy enough…to do something like that to him. He’s pissed and from what I heard, Vox wasn’t looking too hot either.” You shoot a look over to Alastor who huffs smugly, looking away as he takes a sip of his coffee. I fucking knew it.

You turn your attention back to Angel, “If someone knocked him around that much, he’s bound to want to take it out on someone. Are - are things going to get worse for you?” Anxiety grips your chest at the realization you may have only aggravated Angel’s situation rather than helped.

“Eh it’ll be weeks before he even gets back to working the studio, besides no one is going to take him seriously with those words on his face. Whoever got ahold of him CARVED into his cheeks. Fuckin deep too. Heard it was a carmine knife, so Satan knows it’s gonna scar.” The enthusiasm in his voice helps ease your worries.

Husk finally chimes into the conversation, “hmm and uh – what exactly was written on his face?” his eyes look straight through Angel and settle on you. There’s no way he thinks –

“I don’t know some Latin shit I can’t pronounce. I overheard some older demons say it ‘labeled him as dirty’ or something like that.” Angel shrugs it off and continues joking about how great the next few weeks were going to be for him.

You finish your coffee and stand to get more, wincing at how sore you still feel.

“You could have asked me, dear. I was about to get up for more as well.” Alastor motions for you to sit back down while taking your cup. When he walks away, Angel comes over and sits on the floor next to you.

“Soooo…you gonna to tell me who actually gave you those bruises? Did you get freaky with Smiles? I just knew he was into that kinda –“

“He didn’t do this Angel.” Your words are soft but stern. He looks up with worry in his eyes. “Don’t take pity on me like that. I am FINE…” you peek up to see Husk’s back turned. Leaning over Angel’s ear, you drop your voice to a whisper, “and uh, between you and me – the word is spurcissime. Roughly translates to ‘complete filth’.” R̴̗͠ǔ̷̮l̸͍͘ẽ̴̘ ̴̩͑#̴̙͆2̸̥̎ ̴̲͌N̸̰̒e̵͔͝v̴̯̆ë̸͙́r̴̬̀ ̸̩̏t̶̳̍ḙ̵̑l̴̥͝l̵̹̍ ̴͎͆ă̴̤ ̷͖̉s̴͕̕o̸̼͊ǔ̶̡l̶̝̿ ̷̺̓ẅ̵̟́ĥ̵̞a̶͖̿ṱ̵̏ ̸̢̕(̵͉̽ŏ̵̢r̵͚͛ ̷̘̈h̷̯̾ò̴̺w̵͉̑ ̸͔̀m̷̡̈́ủ̷̞c̶͂ͅh̷͇̋)̶̻̂ ̵͖̈p̵͍͒o̶̤̽ẉ̶́e̷̤̚ȑ̵̪ ̸̣̚ÿ̴̥ö̶́͜ù̸͎ ̸͇̑ĥ̸̤ä̷̙v̶͖͒e̶̥͛

You sit back on the couch haughtily, taking pleasure in the absolutely dumbfounded look on his face.

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